


World Eater

by dontwannaleavethecongo



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Alcohol, Bisexual Character, Canon Typical Violence, Death, Developing Relationship, Drunken Kissing, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Lesbian Character, Making Out, Multi, Past Sexual Abuse, Sexism, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Threats of Violence, frostbite spiders, non-canon compliant, poor treatment of women, rating change in later chapters, some racism, tags are subject to change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2019-08-23 08:58:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 41,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16615913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontwannaleavethecongo/pseuds/dontwannaleavethecongo
Summary: Vala Catraso was born to an Imperial Priestess and Imperial Captain.  With the passing of her mother, her father rules over every aspect of her life.  Where to go and who to worship.  All Vala wants is freedom in a world that will give her everything but that.Currently on hiatus, not happy with where it's going so I am fixing it and changing around chapters.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As per usual let me know if I forget a tag and I'll fix it.  
> Tags are subject to be changed or added as I see fit, this story will be explicit in later chapters.
> 
> This also takes place in Cyrodiil and then Skyrim around the time of the dragons reawakening.
> 
> Finally, I have no idea what the title should be so it'll probably change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited Update:11/28/2018

She always knew this day would come. She had lived most of her life painfully aware but never knew how close this day was. Now there she stood behind the alter, the weight of her father’s expectations put on her shoulders. Her mother had been a priestess at this very chapel long ago, and now it was her turn to put on the mantle. She was nervous, to say the least, and the butterflies in her stomach never seemed to stop fluttering. Vala had prepared and learned the rites of the Goddess for as long as she could remember. Dibella, the Goddess of Beauty and Love. Patron to the arts, aesthetics and erotica.

Here in her hometown of Cheydinhal, the Goddess Dibella did not have a temple devoted to her, but instead the God Arkay, overseer of the circle of life, ruled the hearts of the people. As such, Vala’s father Sergius had planned to send her to the city of Anvil, Dibella’s patron city, for further training. Vala had been strongly opposed to the idea, insisting that she could worship the Goddess wherever she pleased. Her true reason was that she hated being treated like property: go here, worship there. It was all a life that she hated but couldn’t express her distaste openly.

Vala’s fingers brushed against the alter again and she looked around at the stained glass of the chapel. The Divines depicted in the glass loomed over her. “It might not be so bad,” Father Mark offered, approaching her. He was an older Redguard man. He had dark skin and gentle hazel-green eyes that were surrounded by a wrinkled face. His hair was thinned and speckled with grey and white. “Besides, getting away from your father might be good for you,” he placed a rough, calloused hand on her shoulder and brushed her brunette hair out of the way. Vala found it hard to believe that this man used to be a fearsome pirate. He was the kindest man she knew.

“You should watch what you say, Father, for I fear what mine may do to you,” Vala murmured, “He has the town under his thumb, who knows what would happen.”

Father Mark seemed unphased and brushed off Vala’s warning with the wave of his hand, “Your father might own this town, but any man who cannot see past race or class-standing owns nothing.”

Vala smiled to herself, the Father was good at speaking in stories and metaphors. He preferred it that way, said it helped people use their brains. Rarely did he speak as bluntly as he did now. He was right about Sergius. He was a captain of the Imperial Army and ran a chapter in the city of Cheydinhal. He didn’t like being spoken down to and was well known for his superiority complex. No one could prove that it was him who sent soldiers to beat up men or women who spoke ill of his name, but everyone knew it was him. 

The door to the chapel opened and a beggar walked in looking for refuge. “Your duties are done for the day,” Father Mark said to Vala, “I’ll help him.”

Vala nodded and watched as Father Mark took the beggar to get some clean clothes and food to eat. She admired the work that Father Mark did here at the chapel. She left and stepped out into the brisk, evening air. It was Fredas and in only a few days, most likely on Morndas, she would be on her way to the Anvil temple. “Took you long enough,” a familiar voice called to her.  
Vala smiled, “Hello Neph.”

The two women approached and held each other in an embrace. “I never thought he would let you leave,” Neph teased, her red eyes bright against her dark blue skin. Although Vala’s father disapproved of their friendship, Nephatah was her greatest friend. The Dark Elf seemed to be the only person, besides Father Mark, in this entire city who didn’t care about who Vala was. And it was refreshing. In grade school they had always butt heads on political issues. Debates that the other children were too afraid of entertaining with Vala in fear that she would punish them like how her father punished their parents. Then when they were older, it became less verbal and more physical. When her father asked her where the bruises came from, Vala had told him she tripped and fell. One of the only lies she had told her father.

“So, we going to the training house today,” Neph clutched her hands into fists and threw a few punches in the air, “We only have a few days left. If we train hard now, we can beat up your father and make a run for it. Join up with a gang or be top notch mercs.” 

Vala giggled, “What is it with you and bandits Neph?”

“Not just any bandits Val! Us as bandits! I can be the brawn, you the brains-”

“Uhm,” Vala interrupted, “Why do you get to be the brawn? Maybe I’m the brawn.”

“You and what muscle?”

Both young women laughed. Neph wasn’t wrong. Vala had a lean, curved body with very little muscle mass. It didn’t stop her from training on dummies. If she did want to gain mass, she’d need a change of diet and a regular training regimen. Both of which would be hard to hide from her father who insisted that she be a Priestess and nothing else. Neph on the other hand, was sinewy with slight muscle bulges. Vala had always wanted to be like that. The two women made it to an abandoned cottage on the outskirts of the city. Creeping ivy covered the front of the cottage. Vala imagined that at one point a cute little family lived here. Now blood speckled the basement and dull training weapons lined the walls.

The basement was fixed with mats and straw dummies. Vala and Neph changed their clothes into street clothes. “I don’t have much time,” Vala said disdainfully, “So we’ll want to make this fast.”

Neph was already stretching her limbs, “Whatever you say m’lady.”

Vala tied her hair back into a pony and both women got to work on their stances. Throwing punches at straw men, offering tips and tricks. It was thirty minutes into the workout when Vala got redressed. Her modest Priestess gown felt confining in comparison to the plain shirt and shorts she had been previously wearing. “When are you gonna tell him,” Neph asked from across the room.

“Tell who about what,” Vala asked confused.

“Your father, about us,” Neph said nonchalantly, rubbing her knuckles.

“You know I can’t,” Vala said guarded, a light blush running across her cheeks.

“Yes, you can, you just choose not to,” Neph shook her head, and paused slightly, “I can’t stand hiding in the dark about this. About us.”

The shorter woman approached and placed her reddened hands lovingly on Vala’s forearms and rubbed them gently. “I’ll get you out of there,” she placed a chaste kiss on her forehead, “I promise.”

Vala grabbed the back of Neph’s head and pulled her lips to her own. It was quick, though Vala wished time to stop in that moment. “I have to go now,” Vala murmured against Neph’s lips, “I’ll tell him tonight. I promise.”

They pulled away and Vala left the cabin and headed off to her father’s property. She could see it in the distance, a huge mansion surrounded by farmland. A lump of guilt filled Vala’s throat. She didn’t want to tell her father about her relationship with Neph. In fact, Vala had planned on telling Neph that it was over. But every time she saw that Dark Elf’s charming smile she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. “Good evening Mistress,” a deep purr to her left brought Vala back to reality. A Khajiit approached, he had a mane around his head and scars down his neck. His eyes glowed in the lowlight, his pupils slits in a sea of green. 

“Working hard,” Vala took note of the cat-man leaned against a tree, “Or hardly working.”

The Khajiit growled, “You’re lucky I don’t eat you.”

Hiskar was Vala’s least favorite body guard her father had hired. Not because of his race, but because of the way he treated her and looked at her. Like she was his prey. She worried that she’d wake up one morning to find him in her bed. She had at least three locks on her door and would move the nightstand in front of the door as an extra blockade. She held her head high as she walked away, hoping that he would leave her alone. Her steps hurried to the front door of the mansion. She could hear her father Sergius inside talking to presumably one of his guardsmen. “That sounds like a wonderful plan. When can he meet Vala?”

Vala scrunched her face in confusion as she stepped inside, “Father, I’m home.”

“Ah, there you are my beautiful daughter,” Sergius stepped forward, arms outstretched. He pulled her into a warm embrace, but she knew it was all show.

“May I implore,” Vala eyed the guest suspiciously, “Who our guest is, and what you are discussing.”

Her father placed a hand into the small of her back and pushed her into the sitting room, “This is Captain Barius. He oversees the chapter over in Markarth. A city out in Skyrim, where our troops are currently at war with some rebel Nords. Gods bless you man.”

Captain Barius nodded his head in fervency, “Thank you Captain Sergius. It’s nice to meet someone who supports his country in such trying times. As for your question Miss Catraso, a General of my land is looking for a wife and it is such an honor that a woman such as yourself were to bear his children.”

Vala could feel her heart stop, “I can’t. I am due to Anvil in three days’ time.”

“That’s the blessing of it,” her father beamed, “Markarth is blessed by the Goddess Dibella. You can continue your work as a Priestess and marry a worthy and wealthy man. It’s perfect.” He turned to Captain Barius, “She’ll do it.”

Vala gasped in horror, “Wha-.”

“When will he send for her?”

Captain Barius smiled, “I was wondering if I could take her now. Today. The sooner the better after all.”

“No,” Vala interjected, “I don’t want to go.”

“It doesn’t matter what you want,” Sergius stated coldly, doing very little to hide his displeasure, “You will do this.”

Sergius turned back towards Captain Barius, “Leave in the morning and take Hiskar with you. He may be a beast, but he certainly fights like one.”

Vala stood there shocked and dumbfounded. She had just been sold off to marry a man she had never met, in a place she had never been and to worship a Goddess she did not love. Her father sang his praise around her. She couldn’t breathe. A firm grip around her arm told her she would have no choice. She ran up to her room, locked the door and threw the nightstand haphazardly in front of it. Panic filled her lungs and, as much as she wanted to scream, no noise came out. Tears ran down her face and dry sobs filled her chest. “What do I do, Shezarr? What do I do,” she asked the air around her, hopping her prayers reached the ears of the God she did worship in secret. In her heart.

“It’d be wise to start packing,” Sergius called, “You’re all leaving early in the morning.”

She walked away from the door, legs shaking in fear. She made it to the chair in front of her desk. Tears streamed down from her coffee brown eyes and rosy cheeks. She grabbed a brush and brushed her hair back and weaved it into braids. She did not have naturally wavy hair and sleeping in braids seemed to help add a bit of wave to her hair. But right now, it seemed more burdensome. She instead walked around the room weakly and filled a bag with a few items and jewelry before throwing herself in bed and crying herself to sleep.

_Vala was walking in a land that she had never seen before. A mountain of grandeur stood before her, cold winds carried snow and fog down the trail in front of her. She began walking, her steps seemed so sure of themselves. She could hear chanting somewhere ahead of her as she climbed the stairs. Words that sounded foreign to her ears. The land seemed to shift and morph the higher she walked, the trees lost their leaves and a few sparse pines dotted the trail._

_She eventually reached the peak of the mountain top and a building of strange architecture loomed before her. It seemed old and yet well cared for. Carvings of warriors and winged beasts covered the doors, and they seemed to shiver from the chanting inside. Vala walked in, and four men sat in a circle in contemplative meditation. She couldn’t see any distinguishing features about them, but they seemed older. Doors from beyond the room swung open, the men were unphased and continued their chanting._

_A loud noise from outside was heard, grinding and clashing of steel. Vala moved to the doorway and peered outside. The chanting from the men changed to one word over and over again, but Vala could not hear the word clearly. The noise happened again, but this time is sounded fearsome. A roar of some kind. The chanting became louder and the word more clear. Vala continued on her journey, now out in some courtyard. A scaled, winged creature of intense power and voracious appetite flew down in front of her. Its scales flashed between black and ivory, its horns constantly morphing like it was two separate beings fighting for one body._

_The creature’s maw opened and the chanting surrounded the air around her. A single word she could now understand. “Dovahkiin!” The beast lunged forward and she felt everything around her shatter._

Vala woke up suddenly in a cold sweat and focused on her surroundings. She was in her room, in her house, in Cyrodiil. Not on some strange unknown mountain with some freakish creature. Her breathing slowed, and she laid back down on her bed. The bed was soaked with her sweat and she groaned in frustration. She removed her blankets and sheets from the stuffed down feather mattress. A brisk knock at the door and the intruder identified themselves, “Are you okay Miss Catraso?”

She recognized the deep timbre of Captain Barius’ voice. “I’m fine,” she replied.

He sensed the hostility through the door, “My apologies ma’am. I heard you struggle-”

“I said I’m fine,” Vala rubbed her temples, annoyed that such a man who’s only goal was to deliver her to a potential husband was concerned for her well-being. Maybe he was only concerned because he didn’t want to deliver a sick woman to his superior. She needed to know, and her father wasn’t around now. She unlocked and threw open the door.

Captain Barius was still standing there, concern on his face. She could see him better now that she wasn’t in absolute shock about being sold off. He was a short, Imperial man with tanned skin. His grey eyes had fuzzy brows seated above them, though his hair was cut military style. He wore a plain shirt and she took note of the lean muscle that seemed to be a hallmark of most Imperial men. Lean and muscular bodies, but he had just a little more on his arms than she had anticipated. “Why me,” Vala asked flatly, “Why me?”

Captain Barius thought about it for a second, “You father, Captain Sergius, had offered your hand a long time ago to the Imperial Council.”

“He did what?!”

“Shhhhhh… No one would take it because of how… young you were and then the war started, and now you’re old enough...”

“And now even in the midst of war I am burdened to make a family because…”

“Because the General remembered the offer. Listen, it’s very complicated,” Captain Barius tried to explain.

“My father tried to sell me off when I was younger, there’s nothing complicated about that,” Vala seethed tears in her eyes. “You’re all just as worse as the Altmer or the Nords. Treating me as property.”

Anger flashed across Barius’ face, but Vala didn’t give him the satisfaction and closed the door on him. “We leave in one hour,” he growled, “You’d best be ready.”

The carriage was fully packed and ready to go. A team of horses in the lead. Hiskar was leaned against the carriage and Captain Barius opened the carriage door for Vala. He offered his hand to help Vala into the carriage, but Vala ignored it and pulled herself in. She could hear her father whisper words of apologies citing her tiredness as a reason for neglecting politeness, as it was no later than five in the morning. A man her father had hired was driving the carriage and Hiskar prowled alongside it. Vala was stuck in the container with Captain Barius. She felt a single tear roll down her face. “Why are you crying, m’lady,” Barius asked. Vala remained silent and turned her head to look out the window as they left Cheydinhal. The shadow of the city fading into the distance. “It’s because,” Vala said turning back to Barius, “I broke a promise.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Character death but nothing is explicit*
> 
> Edited on 11/30/2018

It was now closer to noon and they were still in the province of Cyrodiil, though they were definitely closer to their target location. Vala made as little talk as possible with her ‘companions’ on the journey. Captain Barius seemed interested in her duties as a Priestess, but she kept her answers short and concise. “So why Dibella,” he finally asked, “Out of all the Gods, why Dibella?”

Vala sighed to herself, “Because my father told me to.”

“Oh,” Captain Barius replied, let down there wasn’t a better answer than that.

Vala rolled her eyes, “And also because my mother was a Priestess of Dibella and I was born in Sun’s Dawn.”

Captain Barius seemed intrigued, “Ah, the sign of the Lover.”

Vala blushed at his implications, “Not like that.”

“But it all ties together,” Captain Barius puffed his chest, “I’m the Warrior.”

Vala ended the conversation and began watching the trees out the window of the carriage pass by. They were headed northwards towards the Skyrim border. Vala had only heard things few and far between about the inhabitants of that land. Some of which couldn’t possibly be true. She heard that giants walked the land taking care of mammoths, and that the Nords themselves were a large and boisterous people. Rebelling against the High King and getting drunk off their asses. She sat in the carriage dreaming of an escape. Maybe if a band of bandits stopped them she could use it as an opportunity to escape.

She was so caught up in the daydream that she didn’t realize Hiskar suddenly appear at the window she was looking out of. He had remained distant and quiet most of the journey but tried to maintain his presence by simply standing in her view. The sun rays that filtered through the trees illuminated the yellow-orange of Hiskar’s fur, and almost made the sleazy cat-man seem regal. Perhaps in his homeland he could have been nobility or royalty. “Enjoying the view Miss Catraso,” Hiskar added emphasis to the ‘cat’ in her surname and chuckled to himself.

Vala closed the curtain to the window of the carriage. “I need to stretch my legs, Captain Barius,” Vala said hesitantly, “We should stop at the next town.”

The captain seemed surprised to hear Vala speak, just because she had been so quiet and distant the majority of the ride. “Of course, ma’am,” Barius agreed.

It was another thirty minutes before they got to a small village. It consisted of only a few homesteads that surrounded a larger building located in the center. The structures were sturdy and made of wood and stone carefully pieced together. A sign at the entryway to the village read “Inkwell” in ironically faded lettering, the name did seem familiar to Vala. She stepped out of the carriage, and this time accepted Captain Barius’ hand to help her down the steps. The town was quiet and cold being so close to the mountain border between Skyrim and Cyrodiil. A few of the locals were out and about working in the fields readying the ground for spring and summer use. A burly man approached them with a wide smile on his face. “Hail travelers! I am the mayor to our fine village! How can I assist you,” the large man offered a chubby hand in greeting. 

Captain Barius took the man’s hand in his own, “We are just passer-throughs. We’ve been traveling on the road since early this morning.”

“Ah, you just need a break? Well come in! Come in! We have food and drink to fill the soul,” the large man offered, waving them towards the larger building in the center of town. 

A group of men stood at the entrance to the building. The men were tall and large, but not like the large man that stood before Vala. They looked strong. They were boisterous and passed around a pipe. The wind changed directions and Vala could smell tobacco. “Don’t mind them,” the mayor said to Vala, “Skyrim’s climate doesn’t allow tobacco to grow. And anyone who spends money here is fine by me.”

Captain Barius’ brows furrowed, and he moved forward towards the men, “It’s illegal to cross the border for such a reason. Especially if they’re Nords.”

Vala stepped forward just as quickly and grabbed the captain’s arm, “They are spending money in a village that’s under Cyrodiilic purview. No doubt a small town that can utilize the income to benefit the people who live here. I may not be that refreshed on economics, but even I understand that simple fact.”

Captain Barius pulled his arm out of Vala’s grip. The group of Nords were now staring intently waiting to see what would happen. One of them began to size up Captain Barius, looking down at him with a puffed-out chest. His eyes seemed to shoot daggers at the Imperial man. “Fine,” Captain Barius receded, he turned back to Vala, “But don’t expect me not to report this once we get to Skyrim.”

The mayor looked amused at the altercation. Captain Barius stalked away from the lodge house, and the group of Nords went back to smiling and laughing amongst each other. Except for the one Nord man, he was still looking in their direction, and Vala noticed, he was looking straight at her. Cold, grey eyes seemed to stare right through her. He had dirty blond hair pulled back and a fuzzy beard that surrounded a rough and jutted face. Their eyes met for a brief second before he looked away. “So, food, drinks, anything,” the mayor asked hesitantly.

“Yes,” Vala said assuredly, “I’d like that.”

The mayor led the young woman into the lodge house past the Nordic men. They didn’t say anything as she walked by. She didn’t expect them to do so anyways. What she did feel, however, was four sets of eyes on her as she walked by. They didn’t feel greedy, or lustful like how the male gaze was when she usually entered a room. Instead the gaze spoke in silent appreciation. The inside of the lodge house was warm and homely, the smell of mutton and beef-stew filled the air. A few patrons were seated around a table, discussing the plans for crops in the coming season. Dishware and hunting trophies lined the wall carefully placed in decoration. “It looks lovely,” Vala commented, genuinely impressed.

“Thank you,” the mayor said proudly. “Em,” he suddenly bellowed, “Get our guest a fine meal.”

An Argonian woman entered the room, “What does she want? Stew, bread, mead,” she asked smiling at Vala, “We have a little bit of everything around here.”  
“Ask for the pie,” one of the patrons spoke up, “Em’s shepherd’s pie is the best I’ve ever had.” 

The woman smiled, her blue scales shimmered in the fire light, “I raise the spine of appreciation towards you.”

Vala shrugged, “I’ll take the pie then.”

“Very well,” the mayor led Vala to his favorite spot in the tavern, “Anything to drink Miss…?”

“Vala,” she finished, “And just water please.”

The man smiled and went back into the kitchen with the Argonian woman. Vala looked at the fearsome beasts that lined the wall of the tavern. The pelts of bears and the racks of elk that seemed too powerful for one man to take alone. She pictured the men or women who took down those beasts. Strong warriors, not tiny priestesses. She thought back to the basement of the cottage with Neph. When they first started out, they were both thin and meekly. As time went on, Neph’s body changed but Vala… she seemed to remain the same tiny person. Maybe Father Mark was right. She could get away from her father, and perhaps her new husband would be away for most of the time. She could do what she wanted. Workout and train. Or she could just run away now and do what she wanted.

The door opened, and she half expected Captain Barius to walk in. But instead she was eyeing the Nordic man who was starring her down earlier. He spotted her immediately and walked over, confidently, “May I sit here?”

His voice ran like warm honey. Deep and sweet, drawing her in. He smelled of tobacco and sweat. Completely unlike Imperial men who smelled like soap, like they’re always trying to scrub away the sins of what they’ve done. This Nordic man seemed to wear his life proudly, like how a man should. She motioned to the chair that sat empty right next to her, “If you must.”

He sat down, his weight causing the chair to groan. He growled in frustration, “Why is all Imperial furniture so flimsy?”

Vala admired the man’s musculature. The way each piece bulged and moved every time he took a breath. There were defined creases that ran up and down his body, lined with thick veins. She was tracing her eyes along one particular one that ran from his shoulder blade and up the curve of his neck. His rough beard covered most of his face, her eyes eventually wandered back to the man’s steel grey eyes. “As much as I enjoy having a beautiful woman such an yourself stare me up and down like the last sweet roll in the bakery, all I wanted to say was ‘thank you’. For earlier I mean,” the man seemed to stammer over his words. 

“Can I get something for you, Erik,” the Argonian woman placed a dish in front of Vala that she had never seen before. It smelled delectable. Meat, carrots, potatoes all covered in a fluffy crust. 

“Yeah, I’ll have mutton and mead. Thanks, Em,” Erik replied with a smile.

Em walked back to the kitchen. Vala had already started digging into the food. The taste was incredible and the flavor complimentary. Back at the mansion her father had placed her on a strict diet. One she wasn’t too fond of, but he said it was to help her ‘keep her shape’. “Maybe you stare at everything like it’s a sweet roll,” Erik murmured, amused. 

Vala stopped eating, she didn’t realize that she had stopped using her manners somewhere along the way. She had been too busy shoveling food in her mouth like it was the last thing on Nirn. She wiped her mouth on a nearby napkin, “I am so sorry… I…”

He shrugged, “Please don’t apologize, Em’s pie is the best damn thing on this planet.”

Vala slowed down her eating, and soon Em was back with mutton, mead and tobacco leaves wrapped in twine. “Just in case… you know,” Em motioned towards Vala, “you might not be around as often.”

“I’m not worried about it. Imperials can kiss my ass,” it took a moment for him to realize what he had said. He turned to Vala, “No offense… I… I mean…”

She laughed and waved his hand like how he did earlier, “Please don’t apologize. I’ve experienced their bullshit first hand. Now this… This pie is amazing.”

Em smiled, showing her sharp teeth, “You are welcome here anytime.”

“What did they do to you,” Erik asked curiously, “Imperials I mean.”

Vala took another bite of the pie, “Well, I’m an Imperial so I see and hear most everything. My father is captain in Cheydinhal. And he just sold me to some general out in Markarth.” Vala was now viciously stabbing the dish in front of her. “Why am I even telling you this?”

Erik smiled, “I tend to have that effect on people.”

“Did you…” Vala suddenly realized, “Did you cast a charm on me?”

“Oh, Gods no,” Erik said taking a leaf and filling his pipe, “I’d be angry if my parents sold me off to someone. I’d want to talk about it too.” He took a match, “You don’t mind right.”

“No, I don’t,” Vala said quietly.

“Now are you saying that because you’ve been taught to be passive, or because you really don’t mind,” Erik asked pulling the pipe away from his mouth.

Vala thought about it. She had been taught to stay out of the way, to not have any sort of opinion. When she did she was berated and humiliated for it. Maybe the men of Skyrim weren’t so bad. At least this man wasn’t a terrible human being. “Truthfully,” she started out, quietly, “I’ve never thought about it… Well until now. I had a very strict upbringing. And I’d rather leave it at that.”

Erik nodded, “I understand.” He motioned back to his pipe, “So think about it and tell me, do you mind?”

“No,” Vala stated firmly, “I don’t mind.”

The Nord man took a few puffs on the pipe. Vala watched as wreathes of smoke surrounded his head before the wisps disappeared. She reflected on herself, _why was she telling him these things?_ “Oh my god,” she realized, “You did charm me.”

“I told you I didn’t,” Erik retorted, “But if you feel-”

“I am a Priestess, I can tell when someone is trying to charm information out of me,” Vala seethed.

Erik nonchalantly asked, “Did the mayor touch you.”

“Well yeah but…”

“But what?”

Vala stood up suddenly and ran out of the lodge house. It was oddly dark outside. She looked around trying to find Captain Barius. She saw Hiskar standing next to the carriage with the horses. He was feeding them. Vala quickly approached, “Where is Barius?”

“Hiskar does not know,” the Khajiit replied, “Though I do think he went out that way.”

“Thanks, Hiskar,” Vala hastily stated and ran in the direction he pointed her to. She blamed her kindness on whatever charming spell was cast on her.

She heard groaning off in the distance. Captain Barius was face down in the dirt. He was beaten and bruised. She shook him, “Captain, captain we need to go.” Hiskar was suddenly at her side, she jumped in surprise. 

“Hiskar was confused when you thanked him,” he muttered picking up Barius’ body in his arms.

“We need to get out of here,” Vala said hastily, “I thought I recognized the name of this village and now I remember Sergius mentioned it once. It’s a town of bandits, they charm their prey to make them vulnerable.”

Hiskar hissed, “How doesn’t anyone know about this?”

They approached the carriage and the driver stepped out from around it, “No one knows about it except for a few. It’s well off the beaten path so it’s easy to hide.”

“You did this,” Hiskar growled, his fur stood up on edge, “why?”

The driver shrugged, and patted a fat gold purse on his hips, “Because I get paid to do it.”

The mayor let out a hearty laugh and revealed himself to the travelers. The townspeople, or rather, band of bandits had them all surrounded. They were adorned with crude armor and weapons of various sizes and styles. Amongst them was Erik and the three other Nordic men. “Seems you caught us at a bad time,” the mayor boomed, “We were just discussing how short on supplies we were and then…” he motioned towards the carriage, “…our golden goose showed up!”

Em approached the mayor, “Let the girl live. She’s… one of us.”

“Very well, I can respect that,” Mayor nodded, “the girl lives. Everyone else is fair game.”

The crowd began to circle in and Vala felt a strong grip on her arm. It pulled her away from the crowd. She heard brawling from behind her and the roars from the Khajiit. She turned her head back, but she couldn’t see anything of the bodyguard due to the wall of people who surrounded him. “Let me go,” she punched the owner of the hand in the face. Its grip loosened, and she tried to run back. Arms grabbed her around her waist and pulled her back, “They let you live, I wouldn’t push it.”

“You’re not me Erik,” Vala sobbed.

“Why are you crying,” he pushed her so her back was flush against a nearby tree, “Why go to them when they were just going to deliver you to some man you’ve never met.”

Tears were running down her face, “I…I don’t know.”

“You and I both know you’re not charmed anymore, you dispelled that already,” Erik held her shoulders firmly, “So choose, back to that life. Or start new. You can be free. Away from your father. You can be the person who you want to be.”

“Where? How? I have nothing out here,” Vala sobbed.

Erik thought about it for a second, “Come with me. You don’t have to stay. I can take you to Skyrim, show you to hunt, how to work. You can be what you want to be. No one can stop you.”

He let go of her and took a few steps back. “Your decisions begin now,” Erik turned and walked toward three men who were waiting for him off in the distance. Vala knew he was right. She had never been an impulsive person, but then again, she never had the true opportunity to be an impulsive person. “My name is Vala Catraso,” she called after him.

Erik turned around, “And my name is Erik. But I’m sure you already knew that.”

Smoke wreathes were around his head again. He looked fearsome in the moonlight, his jutted features seemed more prominent. Vala took a deep breath, “I want to go with you.”

Erik smiled and extended a hand. “You’re not going to charm me with that are you,” Vala tried to lighten the mood. She could still hear ‘companions’ being beaten off in the distance. The man smiled at that. Vala reached out and grabbed it. A feeling overwhelmed her. She felt like she could breath, like there was nothing on her shoulders, nothing weighing her down or holding her back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated: 12/4/2018

They walked for quite a while until they reached a small campsite with fur tents pitched around a pile of charcoal that Vala determined was the fire place. There were a few pots haphazardly strewn about. “It’s not much,” one of the other Nord men said, “But we can stay here until dawn before we make our way to Skyrim.” The man who spoke had long, greasy black hair with a short beard, though his mustache was interestingly longer than all his facial hair. His voice wasn’t as deep, leading Vala to believe that he was younger than everyone else.

The black-haired man turned to Vala, “My name is Ofric, I’m sorry for not introducing myself. I find that I only enjoy meeting people over a bellyful of mead.”

Vala raised an eye-brow, “Are you saying you aren’t enjoying this?”

“He’s just sayin’,” a red-haired man interjected, “He needs a drink.” He reached into a bag near a tent and pulled out four bottles of mead. Vala stood awkwardly off to the side watching the interactions between the four men. The one who hadn’t said anything just sat down silently next to Erik, who was currently preoccupied with putting the fire together. The one next to Erik also had black hair, but only stubble for a beard, and his hair was shorter. He seemed to be the quiet one of the group, so Vala doubted she would learn his name any time soon.

Vala observed the sad excuse of a fire pit that Erik was trying to put together. But the prospect of alcohol and stories of times gone by were causing quite the distraction. After several minutes without a fire, Vala spoke up, “Do you need some help with that?”

“I’ll get this in a second, I promise,” Erik took another drink from the bottle at his side.

A spark and then two, but it didn’t catch. She watched as Erik’s brows furrowed in frustration. After two more tries to no avail, Vala motioned for him to give her the flint. He conceded, and with one deft motion she set the twigs aflame. “Now that,” Ofric said, “was impressive.”

Vala smiled to herself, “Thanks, I got good at it when one of the servants developed arthritis. She also started to develop some other disorders, so I decided to do some of her work that way she wouldn’t get fired. I helped her light the fires in the morning.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Haedrig remarked.

“I helped her out for about a year and a half before Sergius, my father, took notice. She was let go immediately. The next time I saw her, she was a beggar on the street who didn’t even know her own name. I took care of her at the Chapel for a few months longer before she passed,” Vala remembered bitterly.

The red-haired man lifted his drink, and the others did the same in solidarity, “To you for helping the elderly. And to that servant woman for teaching you to light a fire, otherwise Erik would let us freeze our balls off.”

“Shove it, Haedrig,” Erik snorted.

“Her name was Katarina,” Vala burst out, “If we’re going to give a toast to her, we might as well use her name, and I would like a drink.”

Vala was soon holding a bottle of Nordic mead, raised along with everyone else. “To Katarina,” she said.

“To Katarina,” the men affirmed. Their voices loud and confident.

They gulped back their drink. Vala stared at hers intently. This would be the first time she would have an alcoholic drink. She always defaulted to water, even when her father said having a glass during a meal was okay. Well here she was, bottle in her palm, not a morsel of food in sight and surrounded by Nords. She lifted the mouth of the bottle to her nose and breathed in. It smelt faintly of honey and berries, but the sweetness was covered up by something acrid. She guessed it was the fermentation that naturally occurred with the process of making alcohol. The liquid ran past her lips and over her tongue. She could taste something fruity and sweet like honey. She couldn’t clearly identify what the berries were, probably native to Skyrim, but the taste that followed was something else entirely.

“By the look on your face,” Haedrig chuckled, “This is your first time?”

Vala nodded trying to hide her scrunched face. “Yeah, yeah it is,” she said in awe that she could perform such an act.

“So, what’d you think,” Ofric asked.

“Since it is a Nordic beverage after all,” Haedrig added on.

All four men seemed to quiet down and lean forward, waiting for the Imperial’s verdict. Vala waited for the strong taste to pass, she had genuinely enjoyed the taste of the mead. “It’s delicious,” she finally said. All four men cheered simultaneously, and they all took another drink.

Figuring out sleeping arrangements was difficult. There were only four tents, and there were five people. On a cold night, no one wanted to be exposed to the elements. At the same time, no one wanted to make Vala even more uncomfortable with her current situation. No one knew that the arguments were, in actuality, making Vala even more uncomfortable. So instead of speaking up she decided to do her own thing. No reason she couldn’t. She snuck a few fur blankets from the tents. Laid one on the ground, wound one up as a makeshift pillow and used the other two as blankets. She crawled under and closed her eyes, letting sleep take her.

_Vala opened her eyes. She was in a large cave underground. Light filtered through cracks in the ceiling along with one large hole. A few pine trees swayed dropping needles at their feet. It smelt fresh and clean, but it wasn’t completely untouched. Man-made stairs led Vala down to the bottom of the cave where stalagmites reached upwards like spindly fingers. She stepped onto the cave floor, water pooled around her bare feet._

_“Vala.”_

_A man’s voiced echoed around the walls of the cavern. Vala looked around but saw no one. She saw a wall that contained tapestry carvings of a person in armor being worshipped by other people, and a winged beast lay dead at the figure’s feet._

_“Vala.”_

_She looked around again, and yet saw no one. Her eyes turned toward her reflection in the pool of water. There was a figure of a man behind her. He wore a helmet that bore horns and a halo of holy light surrounded his head. The armor she observed him wearing was similar in build. Sturdy with decorative spines. “I have been waiting to speak with you, my child,” his lips did not move; however, she did know that it was him speaking to her._

_“You will play an important role soon, one that you must prepare for. You have felt it, been consumed by it. The destruction of Tamriel… Of Nirn itself.”_

_Vala was confused, “What must I do?”_

_“Anything, but the Dovahkiin must be brought to the place of the Four. You have companions now, use them. They would do the same,” he said pointedly._

_“They are using me,” Vala asked, “I mean, I should have known, but I feel like once I’m there I can…”_

_“No, you misunderstand,” the figure interrupted, “in the same situation, they would do the same. Erik is genuine in helping you. Ask him what he learned from you when you were charmed. You were out for longer than you were aware.”_

_Vala felt sick to her stomach. “Don’t worry, he didn’t do anything inappropriate towards you,” the man reassured her, “And believe him when he says that you do have options in this world.”_

_“And yet you come to me and tell me that I must do something otherwise the world will end, what choice do I have in that,” she asked defeated._

_“You would allow all life to die, Vala?”_

_She felt a tear roll down her face, “No.”_

She opened her eyes and the sky was brown. Her brows furrowed in confusion, why was the sky brown? She looked around and realized she was now under one of the tents in the campsite. Vala rolled over and tried to rub away the pounding in her head, most likely from the alcohol that night. “You didn’t have to take all the blankets, you know,” Erik was sitting across the tent, a faint wisp of smoke tendrilled its way upwards from the dead campfire. His dirty-blond hair seemed to glow in the morning sunlight. 

“Yeah well,” Vala rubbed her sore back, “I didn’t have much of a choice.” She crawled out of the tent and looked around, “Where’s Haedrig, Ofric and…”

“Asmund,” Erik filled in.

Vala nodded.

“They went out hunting earlier. Up ahead closer to the border, they are going to meet us there. We didn’t want to wake you.”

She stood up and stretched. After sleeping on the ground her body was sore. “I’m guessing I won’t ever get used to this,” she asked Erik.

“Nope. Lots of men from my band save up to spend a night in a tavern bed,” he replied. He too was up and moving around now, packing up the tent and fur blankets. Vala walked back over and made an attempt to help him, “Why not just… steal a bed?”

Erik stopped and looked at her, “That’s ingenious, I just might have to hire you on.” 

The two of them continued to pack up the lonesome tent. Erik getting slightly frustrated at her attempt yet remained calm and supportive showing her what she needed to do. “Can I carry it,” she asked motioning to the lamely wrapped bundle, “After all I am going to need to get used to it.”

“Of course,” he smiled.

They walked in silence for a while. Vala wanted to ask Erik what he had learned from her while she was charmed. She just didn’t know how to bring it up or start the conversation. She then decided that if she wanted to know, she needed to just ask. “So,” she started, drawing his attention. He looked sideways, his steely eyes attentive to her every word. “I was wondering about yesterday. I went into that lodge around noon and left it late in the evening. Em said I was ‘one of them’ and suddenly I’m…” She turned to see him, the sunlight shone just so to reveal the bruise she left on him from the previous night, “And I punched you. Gods I am so sorry.”

Erik chuckled, “Don’t worry about the punching thing. I knew it probably would happen, I’m just impressed in how hard you did hit.”

Vala blushed at the compliment.

“But you’re right,” Erik continued, “you deserve to know what happened. After Mayor charmed that Imperial man…”

“Barius,” Vala added.

“After Mayor charmed Barius,” he continued, “you stepped in to our defense. No common Imperial would do something like that and Mayor’s interest was piqued. He just wanted to see what kind of person you were like. So, he charmed you and under the charm spell asked you a series of questions. We found out that you were trained to be a Priestess of Dibella and that your father is an Imperial captain.”

“Did you,” Vala interrupted, “ask if I knew any details about the war?”

“I wish I could say ‘no’, but we did. It was not something we took lightly, but during the session, you did express your distaste in the war. Including Altmers might I add. A strong distaste in them. You were also drawn to a completely different deity than the one you were taught to worship.” He took out his pipe and filled it with tobacco. He took a few puffs on it, “It’s interesting to see an Imperial woman worshiping Shezarr… or Shor if you ask any Nord. Same with Em and Mayor. Though they lean more towards Talos, it’s still the same concept. Worshipping a God no one else does or hiding worship from others. We all tend to stick together.”

“My father never told me any specific details on the war,” she informed, “but I’m sure you already knew that.”

He nodded, “We did in fact know that, and you should know that during this war my affiliations is with my people.”

“You’re a Stormcloak?”

Erik nodded, “Yeah, but I’m also a bandit so I guess it really doesn’t matter.”

“Support for your country is always an admirable quality,” Vala murmured, “unless you’re an Altmer.”

Erik bellowed a laugh, “That is something I can agree with.”

They walked in silence again. Eventually, Erik put his pipe away and pulled out a knife and a smaller whetstone. She watched as he deftly sharpened the blade. Flecks of steel covered his thick fingers. Vala shifted the pack on her back, it was certainly heavy, and she wasn’t used to carrying something like that. Erik offered to help and she gratefully obliged. He carried the load and worked on his knife at the same time with no problem. “You know,” Erik stammered, “I’m genuinely interested in your well-being. You were so broken under that charm spell… I felt a desire to save you from it. Or at least, give you a chance to do what you want.”

Vala understood where he was coming from. It made sense but… “You had no right, you know,” she replied, their eyes met, “Delving into my head like that. Acting like some hero.”

“I am sincere in my words and my actions,” he retorted.

She swallowed, “I know. Just… don’t do it again. Give me time to come out and speak my mind. Don’t dig into it like some crazed fool. But thank you, I guess, for answering my questions.”

Erik nodded, “Of course. I am sorry. If it’s any consolation, I can’t cast spells. I was born without the innate ability to harness magicka, so no charm spells from me.”

“I forgive you,” Vala replied. She felt like she could trust him.

“Hey! Up here!”

The two turned and looked up a mountain side and saw Haedrig’s red hair bright against the rockface. He was waving down at the two and lifted the corpse of a goat, “Looks like we’re eating good tonight!”

Vala looked at the mountain passes before her, a cold breeze washed over her. “There she is Vala, Skyrim in all of her glory,” Erik motioned.

The goat meat was delicious, Vala had no idea that Nords were so good at cooking. But she guessed that, being bandits, they had no choice but to learn. Granted most of the stereotypes she had learned about Nords were wrong, for the most part. They were definitely loud, loved their mead and enjoyed the thrill of the hunt. However, there was also a kindness about them. Even Erik had trouble expressing himself sometimes. Vala found it handsome and somewhat endearing, even though she had only met him. She still wasn’t completely comfortable talking to them, but the Nord men were so open about everything it was hard keeping to herself.

She was excited that she no longer had a father looming over her shoulder, watching her every move. But at the same time, she felt a nagging emptiness inside of her. She suddenly had to find a purpose. She had one back home, be a Priestess and then recently marry a man she’s never met. Though she had hated every second of it, it had given her some façade of a purpose. Vala took another bite of the meat, it was a bit dry, but whatever Ofric used to spice and flavor it really did the trick. Asmund was chuckling slyly with Erik over a joke at Haedrig’s expense. 

They finished and packed up. Vala took note of their attire. Each of the men seemed to prefer heavy metals for their armor along with fur that was more strategically placed than it was decoratively placed. She could tell they kept good care of it, and she could see the wear from fights and battles previous. Some pieces would need to be replaced soon. Vala shifted the tent pack on her back. She had taken it apart and put it back together before they headed out just as some more practice. This time around seemed to be easier than earlier in the morning when she had been groggy and tired. 

Erik lifted a hand and all the men stopped dead in their tracks. The quietest they had ever been. “We have company,” Erik whispered, pulling out the knife he had been sharpening earlier. The other men followed suit. Asmund pulled out his bow, Haedrig an axe and finally Ofric a spiked mace. Vala looked around and she couldn’t see what these men were sensing. Then she heard it, a low growl. Out from the shadows stalked a pack of wolves. They were big, furry brutes with snagged and rotten teeth. “Stay close to me,” Erik told Vala, but she had already ducked behind him. She didn’t have a weapon on her, making the battle a pack of five versus a group of four. The bigger wolf lowered its head and growled, prowling forward. The others followed its lead circling around the closed in on the group of humans.

“Looks like someone else enjoyed your cooking,” Haedrig commented.

Asmund frowned, “Now is not the time for wise cracks.”

Haedrig lifted his weapon ready to strike, “Let’s do this.”

“On my signal men,” Erik snarled, “this will be easy.”

Vala gulped, she sure hoped so. The leader of the pack lunged, and Erik called out thrusting his knife into the neck of the creature. The other men did the same, knocking their foes back. An axe came down on the forehead of one of the wolves killing it immediately. Asmund had fired his bow before a wolf got to him, effectively injuring its front leg and already drawing the next arrow. Erik was the unlucky draw. Before he could pull his blade from the throat of the limp creature, another lunged at Erik’s throat. He lifted his free arm to block, and the beast’s teeth sank deep into his arm, tearing the flesh and causing blood to pour out from the wound. A deep bellowed scream tore from his throat. Asmund took aim at the beast, and the creature quickly disengaged kiting the man’s attention.

The wolf ran back into the safety of the forest. “Haedrig, wait here with Erik and Vala. Ofric, come with me,” Asmund ran after the wolf, Ofric hot on his heels. Vala fell down to Erik’s side and tore a strip of her dress. She began to crudely bandage Erik’s arm.

“This should work for now,” she wrapped the torn cloth tightly to help staunch the wound. Vala was no stranger to blood and the injured. She had seen a lot worse working in the chapel back in Cheydinhal. For the most part she had treated minor wounds, but on a rare occasion, would treat the wounds of someone who had misspoke around her father’s company. Those were usually the bloodiest.   
“You didn’t have to ruin your dress,” Erik frowned.

Vala shrugged, “I don’t mind. It was bound to get ruined sometime.”

Some bushes near the three shivered. “I’m going to go check that out,” Haedrig carefully approached the spot. Erik’s attention was also drawn to that location, listening intently. Time seemed to slow down as Vala turned back to the wound. From behind Erik, just out of peripheral view, the wolf charged forward. She only had a few seconds to react. Her hands seemed to move on their own, adrenaline coursed through her body. She could feel the blood rushing through every artery and vein in her system, the sound of her breath and heartbeat pounding like drums in her head.

She grabbed the knife, the grip felt cold and foreign in her hand. The wolf lunged at Erik and Vala knocked him back. His eyes widened at the realization of what was happening. The knife didn’t sink as easily into the monster as Erik had made it look earlier. But the weight of the wolf along with gravity seemed to work in Vala’s favor. The beast sunk down on her blade, she could feel the sinews of its flesh give way. The smell of rotten tissue assaulted her nostrils as a canine grazed down her delicate flesh. There was suddenly a deadweight on top of her. It felt like her ribs were broken, crushing every last ounce of oxygen from her lungs. Blood pounded in her ears, Erik’s lips were moving as he pushed the wolf off her, but she couldn’t hear a thing. He helped her up, concern on his face and his lips still moving.

Vala pushed him aside. Adrenaline tingling at her flight behavior. She needed to get away from whatever just happened. She charged towards the mountain pass, making some headway through. Chilled air cooling the line down her face where blood was dripping. She suddenly felt nauseated and relieved her stomach behind a rock. The taste of goat was better going down than it was coming back up. Erik pulled her towards him, still trying to grab her attention. She could barely make out the words now. Something about calming down and safety. She turned on her heels and kept walking. Or at least she tried to before Erik forced her to sit down and breath. He kept her seated just by simply pushing down her shoulders. His strength was impressive, even with a lame arm. Vala watched Haedrig in the background, pacing in sick nervousness. Ofric and Asmund caught up to them confused as to what happened. It seemed Haedrig explained what happened because only concern and anger crossed their faces.

She could hear more now. Asmund was indeed chewing out Haedrig’s tactlessness in the situation. “Someone could have died!” Vala’s face paled out, she could have died. Reality hit her, and she dry heaved. Her stomach trying to release contents that weren’t there anymore. Bile burned her throat and mouth. Erik turned and said something to the other men she couldn’t quite hear, but they left at his instruction. She sat there, tears burning her face. Burning the gash she received from that beast. Erik was now tending to the wound, keeping his voice low and calm. Vala sat there and let him do his job. His fingers were rough, she noticed, but he cleaned the wound well. He opened a pack and administered a salve of some kind that soothed the burn she was feeling.

Breath came back to her soon after. She was still shaking, but at the very least, she was coherent. “Thank you,” she mumbled.

Erik tried to hide his concern with a light laugh, “It’s you who should be thanked.”

He helped her up when she was ready, and they walked through the rest of the pass together. Occasionally, she would lose her footing and Erik was there to catch her and wait for her to signal she was ready to continue. The gash on her face wasn’t bleeding as bad as it was earlier thanks to the salve Erik gave her. The others were waiting on the other side, overlooking a forest lush with grand pine trees, and in the distance a mountain that touched the sky. “Not quite the welcome we were expecting,” Asmund muttered.

“Indeed,” Erik agreed, ushering Vala forward, “here she is, Vala.”

“Skyrim,” she whispered, as the wind brushed through her hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They *finally* made it to Skyrim.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated: 12/5/2018

Asmund was right. This certainly wasn’t what she was expecting on her first day in Skyrim. In fact, none of this was what she expected at all. But she guessed that getting kidnapped by bandits is what she had hoped while stuck in the carriage with Captain Barius and Hiskar. She smiled at the irony of it all, flinching in pain as her wound throbbed. She rubbed at it trying to soothe it. “You shouldn’t touch it, wouldn’t want it to get infected,” a voice said to her left. It sounded like Ofric, but she couldn’t be sure. She couldn’t see out of her left eye due to the bandage that was wrapped around her face. The gash had started just below her left eye and trailed down her cheek just below her jaw. Hence the need to have bandages wrapped around her entire head. It made it difficult to speak, but she didn’t want to talk much after what happened anyways.

She did know that Haedrig was lagging behind the group. Mostly due to the shunned looks he was receiving from his brothers-in-arm. Vala felt mixed emotions for him. She could have died due to his neglect, and yet she understood his reasoning in checking out the bushes. She swallowed, she wouldn’t have died. Erik would have died. That wolf lunged at him and she willingly took the blow. The narrative that was being woven like spider’s threads around her was ‘Shun Haedrig for putting the life of some random Imperial woman in danger’, and she for one did not like that. Everyone’s life was in danger that day.

They traveled on a cobblestone path, the first sign of human life since the bandit town of Inkwell. A post stood on the side of the pathway, ivy and fungi crawled up the old wood. It had an arrow pointing down the cobblestone pathway that read “Falkreath”. Erik led the group down that direction. Vala enjoyed every second of it. She could only see out of one eye, but what she did see, feel, and hear was amazing. The trees were thick and tall seemingly older and wiser than anything there. Sunrays filtered down to the forest floor, illuminating shrubs and fallen logs. She saw a doe lift her head, and two fawns on shaky legs follow close behind. Bushes ripe with berries littered the trail, and bees buzzed in nearby hives. The air here was so fresh and yet she was breathless.

“Just another twenty minutes or so and we’ll make it to Falkreath,” Erik told everyone, “once we’re there, we need to stock up on medical supplies.”

“Do we have enough money,” Ofric asked.

“Probably not,” Haedrig muttered.

Vala had a fat coin purse attached to her waist hidden from view. She suddenly realized she probably didn’t pay for her meal back at Inkwell. Though they were bandits, Em still deserved to get paid for that pie. The men all pulled out thin purses. Twenty-one septims total. Just barely enough to supply basic amenities. With anything extra they would be able to afford better healing salves for both Erik and Vala. She reached into her dress and pulled out her purse. Three hundred shiny coins clinked loudly together drawing the attention of the four men. She swore she could see them drool the tiniest bit. Vala chuckled, of course bandits would get turned on by the sound of coin. She placed the bag in Erik’s good hand. “I’ll take good care of it,” Erik swore, trying to hide the look of excitement in his eyes, “as if it were my own child.”

“How much,” Asmund asked.

Vala looked at them dead on. They knew she couldn’t speak without reopening the gash. She lifted three fingers followed by two closed fists, and she watched as eyes widened and hands went to snatch the bag. “Hands off my child,” Erik finally bellowed, pushing the other men away. Vala was glad to see he was keeping his word, she hoped it would be put to good use.

Falkreath was a quaint little town. Small trees and shrubs filled the spaces between the houses. The sounds of axes chopping wood could be heard faintly around the buzz and bustle of the citizens. Children were chasing each other around with a dog following closely behind. Vala noted that all these people were wearing common, ragged clothes. Although she wore a modest gown, she still stuck out like a sore thumb. It also really didn’t help that she was an Imperial in a town of mostly Nords. 

As the group made their way to the general goods store, Gray Pine Goods, Vala could feel sets of eyes bore holes in the back of her head. It made her feel queasy and uncomfortable. Erik seemed to be on edge too. A blond Nord man stood behind the counter of the store. “No,” he said immediately crossing the threshold, “I will not have your kind here. Out. Now!”

Erik held up his hands in surrender, “Would you really kick good-faring men with money to spend?”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” the store-keep snarled, “I know what you did. I know how you probably got that money.”

“So, you know that I gave it to them,” the Imperial woman spoke up, regretting it when pain shot through her face. All she wanted to do was speed this process along. “Because that’s exactly what happened.”

The Nord shook his head, disgusted, “I don’t believe a word of it. Especially from a bastard Imper-”

A sickening smack filled the room, and the store-keep was on the floor a second later. A bruise blossoming over his right eye. A second man ran down a staircase inside the store. “Out,” he shouted, “get out, now!” 

Erik turned and motioned for others to do the same, “No worries, we were on our way.”

Vala noticed that he was rubbing his hand and arm. He probably re-opened his wound throwing that punch. The group exited the store and came face to face with an angry mob, and in the center of that mob a finely dressed man. “Well well well,” the man started. He had a certain coyness about him. He seemed almost fox-like with narrow eyes and a taut, thin face. “Look at who came crawling back.” A few of the guards chuckled.

“I don’t crawl,” Erik growled, starring down the man. “We were just leaving.”

The man chuckled, “You’re right. You don’t crawl. You kneel on your knees like a good little bitch.”

Fury crossed Erik’s eyes. Asmund and Ofric both grabbed and arm. “It’s not worth it,” Haedrig murmured, “Let’s just get out of here.” 

The fox-man and his entourage laughed as the group left Falkreath empty handed. Or so Vala thought until Erik asked, “What did you get Ofric?”

“Well I grabbed a few of these red bottles, and an apple,” a crunching noise was heard from the man.

Erik took one of the potions and handed it to Vala along with a still full coin purse, “This will help your wound heal faster, and maybe you should be the one with the money from now on.”

Vala wore a look of confusion and concern. Erik shook his head and whispered, “Please don’t ask.” She nodded silently and watched as he took his own red bottle and swigged it down. It seemed counterproductive drinking the concoction considering their wounds were external. Granted she didn’t know anything about alchemy so it really wasn’t her place to judge. She opened the cap and went to drink from the bottle. Her wound wasn’t fatal, if this potion could increase heal rates, maybe she should save it until one of them really needed it. Vala pretended to drink the potion, but she stashed it in her coin purse instead and securely fastened it to her waist.

“The tingling will stop soon,” Asmund informed her, “it just means that its doing its job. It also means that you won’t scar.”

Vala nodded. Once the bandages were removed, they would certainly know that she didn’t drink the potion. The thought of a scar somewhat excited her. She wondered what it would look like when the bandage was finally removed. Would it be jagged? Straight? Dark or light? A noise from off in the distance drove her from her thoughts. It was howling. Panic began to arise in her mind. “They’re far off,” Haedrig commented.

“Are you sure about that,” Vala’s eyes widened. Had she really said that out loud? Haedrig looked hurt, and the rest of the men were just as surprised. Vala marched forward, trying to avoid eye contact from anyone. “So, what’s the plan,” she directed her question more towards Erik than anyone else, “you told me I could start over here, but by the looks of it I won’t be welcomed anywhere here in Skyrim unless it’s in an Imperial based city, and that’s just not an option for me.”

Erik nodded thoughtfully, “I understand. I’m sorry about that.”

“I don’t have any useful skills out here, so what do I do?”

“We could teach her,” Haedrig offered. Vala was surprised that he would suggest that after what she said to him.

“We could,” Asmund agreed, “We are well equipped to do so. If she’s willing to do so, of course.”

Vala thought about it. She knew very little about surviving in the wilds, so siding with people who knew how to survive out here made sense. But siding with bandits was a risky move in and of itself. However, she was an Imperial and most of Skyrim was inhabited by Nords. They’d turn her back over to her father in a heart-beat, or worse… _Use them_.

The voice sounded familiar but not her own. That’s right, her dream from the night before! She needed to find this ‘Dovahkiin’, whatever it was. Vala breathed in deeply, “Teach me. I want to learn.”

Erik nodded, “Very well. But before we start, we need to get back to the cave. I can’t stay away too long.”

“Cave,” Vala asked.

“Our hideout,” Ofric explained, “It’s just past the city of Whiterun.”

The group continued their journey, passing a small town surrounded by the protection of Imperial towers. They decided it would be best to take a small detour on the outskirts instead of passing through. Out of everyone in the group, Vala was the best at sneaking, and she still wasn’t that great at it. High Elves stood at the gates of the city, their skin golden and armor just as so. Erik scoffed in disgust, “Thalmor. Let’s head this way. We can take the pathway to Riverwood and then cut through the forest.”

They all agreed. On the walk there, Erik had pulled out his knife and was showing Vala how to take care of a blade. He showed her how to sharpen the blade and hold it properly. Vala caught on quickly. She and Neph used to practice with daggers back in the abandoned cottage. Vala’s heart sank when she thought of her friend. They didn’t do much, but they had plans on escaping and being mercenaries. She was lost in the memory of her friend that she didn’t notice the angle in which she pulled the blade across the whetstone. Vala cursed and brought her thumb up to her mouth, sucking the blood from the thin cut. “You okay?”

She looked over at Erik, his brows slightly furrowed with parted lips. He looked concerned. “Yeah,” she replied, motioning between her thumb and her face, “I guess I just enjoy getting cut.” 

“Stop that,” he chided, pulling out his pipe, “you’re too pretty to be covered in scars.”

Haedrig perked up, “Are we talking about scars?”

Ofric groaned, “Oh, not this again!”

Vala listened intently as Haedrig pointed out each and every scar he had ever gotten. “…and this one I got from a bar fight in Rorikstead. Ugly bastard put up one hell of a fight. One of my favorites. And then this one here, got that one in a bar fight…”

“I’m sensing a pattern here,” Vala whispered to Ofric so Haedrig wouldn’t hear.

“Preaching to the choir,” Ofric snorted back.

They finally reached Riverwood. The sun was barely showing through the mountain peaks now. The air around Vala had cooled significantly, an opposite to the heat of the day she had been traveling through. “Is it safe here,” she asked.

Asmund nodded his head, “We should be fine. Just so long as we keep our heads down.”

“Sounds easy enough,” Vala stated, “as long as there are no bar fights for Haedrig to get into.”

They all laughed loudly at the comment. Drawing the attention of some of the locals. Vala noticed that no one seemed to recognize them, which was a relief. Even Erik seemed to be doing better now that they were away from Falkreath. She was still wondering, though, what exactly had happened to Erik. She knew she needed to drop the matter, but the thought still nagged at the back of her mind. “Let’s get some beds for the night. It’ll be safer to travel in the morning,” Erik ordered.

They entered a building which had a sign that read ‘Sleeping Giant Inn’. It was small, but it offered a roaring fire and comfortable chairs. Sitting down, Vala noticed right away how much heftier they were in comparison to the dainty furniture back in Cyrodiil. These chairs were thick and sturdy and didn’t contain any sort of decorative patterns engraved in the wood. A woman approached them and asked what accommodations they needed. Soon food and drinks were ordered, and beds were prepared. “I’m sorry,” the woman announced, “We only have four beds available at the moment. However, one of them can fit two people.”

“Do you have a bedroll we could use,” Vala asked, trying to quickly figure out the situation.

The woman squinted at Vala, “No, I don’t.”

“Thanks, we’ll figure it out,” Erik interjected, his speech slurred a little due to his drink.

The woman sauntered away to serve another customer. Erik gathered the attention of their small group. “We need to figure out the sleeping arrangements and fast. I don’t want to go to bed and realize that someone,” Erik eyed Vala, “stole all the blankets for themselves.”

Vala defended herself, “Hey now, you guys weren’t exactly asking me what I wanted to do. There was no other way about it.”

“Okay,” Ofric inquired, “What would you like to do then?”

“I want to sleep by myself in my own bed.”

Asmund took over from there, and soon it was decided that Ofric and Haedrig were to share the bigger bed, Erik and Asmund were to share a room with separate beds, and finally Vala got a whole room to herself. As the group parted ways, Asmund followed Vala. He handed her a roll of fresh bandages. She took them gratefully and locked herself in her room. Her wound was still painful, but the booze helped take the edge off just a bit. She cleaned herself up and applied the fresh bandages and took note of how big a scar was going to be left behind. The potion would have lessened the damage, but she wanted this to be as authentic as possible. Her bed was made of straw and animal furs, but with the long walk to Riverwood, she fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated: 12/5/2018

Vala woke up early the next morning. Sleeping in a bed felt nice, but she didn’t feel nice at all. She ran her fingers through her hair, it was knotted and tangled. On top of that she had been wearing her dress for the past three days straight. She needed new clothes and a hairbrush. She looked out into the tavern, which was devoid of people. It seemed that her companions were still asleep. Vala snuck out of the Inn and strolled over to the Riverwood Trader. To her relief is was open.

She was greeted by a man standing behind the counter polishing what looked like a golden claw. He greeted her happily, “Name’s Lucan. You look worse for wear, what can I get for you today?” He had short, dark hair. His beard and mustache surrounded his mouth. He was an Imperial, but it seemed like he had been living in Skyrim long enough to develop the accent.

Vala rolled her eyes, “Only if you have a fresh set of clothes and a hairbrush.”

Lucan turned his back and rummaged through some items on the wall, “I have this. It’s made with... bristles of some kind. As for clothes, do you want a dress, two-piece, robe…”

“Shirt and pants,” Vala interrupted, “Please.”

The Imperial man led her to a closet that had multiple pieces hanging. “How do you like it so far?”

“I’m sorry,” Vala asked.

“Being an Imperial in Skyrim,” he smiled.

“It hasn’t been completely unpleasant…yet,” Vala smiled back.

“Well stick in there. The people here stick to their own, but if you work hard and prove your worth. The people here will respect you.”

Hearing that helped lighten the mood for Vala as she skimmed through each piece of cloth. Nothing was really catching her eye, but color and style wasn’t really in the question for her right now. “Do you have any armor,” Vala asked.

Lucan nodded and pulled out a few pieces. “I’m not very strong, what would you recommend?”

“Well, I’m not a blacksmith, but in my opinion leather or fur would be a good starter.”

Vala touched the fur and ran her fingers through them. It was course on the outside, but the inside was soft. It would definitely help keep her warm. “How much for it?”

“One-hundred septims for the whole outfit,” Lucan coughed, “and twenty for the brush.”

Vala pulled out her coin purse and handed over one-hundred and twenty pieces. She took the fur armor and hairbrush and left the store gratefully. The Inn was still sparse when she walked back in. She entered her room and got to work. The hairbrush worked wonders on her hair. It wasn’t knotted and tangled, and the long strands of brunette fell in waves around her red wound. It was still healing slowly but surely. She wished she had focused on restoration instead of alteration. Even then, the alteration spells were learned in secret. Vala could still only do minor things like open simple locks. Though at one point she swore she could levitate for only a short time.

She removed her dress and did her best to figure out how to put the fur armor on. The pants and buckles should be easy enough, but that meant she was still half-nude. A knock on the door distracted her. It was Erik’s voice, “We leave in an hour.”

“Sounds goo---Oh!”

Vala had fallen over trying to put the pants on. She rolled over on her back. “You okay,” Erik called through the door.

“Yes,” she called back, “and no. How do you put armor on?”

She could hear Erik chuckling through the door, “Why would you buy armor you didn’t know how to put on?”

“It was a spur of the moment decision, Erik.”

She heard him chuckle again and walk away from the door. It took her a while to finish up, but she eventually figured out how to clip everything together. The last piece was a small, fur cape that covered her shoulders. She wore fur pants that were thick and heated, and the shirt was made of the same materials. Lucan had also given her arm guards made of fur. It felt comfortable wearing this outfit. She brushed her hair back and tied it with a strip of cloth into a high ponytail. And to complete the outfit, she tied Erik’s knife to her waist. She had forgotten to give it back to him yesterday, but it really helped pull the outfit together.

Vala packed everything up and left her room. Erik and the rest were nowhere to be seen. “They were headed to the outskirts of town,” the woman who helped them last night called to her.

“Thank you,” Vala called back and left the Sleeping Giant Inn.

She looked around, the sun shone bright in her eyes. Off on the far side of town she could hear the distinctive sound of Haedrig’s laugh. A series of deep grunted bellows. Vala headed in that direction. Just on the outskirts of town the men were leaned up against a small hill-like cliff in a circle. Haedrig was leaned against the rocks with Asmund and Ofric on either side. Erik’s back was turned to Vala. Asmund was the first to see her, “Did you sleep well?”

Erik turned around, and Vala took note of the faintest of blush on his cheeks. “Yes,” Vala commented, “I slept quite well. What about you?”

Asmund nodded, and Ofric butted in, “It was awful! Haedrig kicks in his sleep!”

“At least I’m not a blanket hog!” 

Erik was squinting at Vala, “Did you not drink that potion?” He was now gesturing at the red wound on Vala’s face.

Vala shrugged, “No. I didn’t want to. It’s not a fatal wound so there was no need.”

Erik brushed his hair back with his hands, “Sounds good. Do you still have the potion?”

“Yeah. Just in case.”

“Smart,” Asmund complimented.

Erik breathed in deeply, his eyes still wandering around her figure, “Alright then. Let’s head out.”

They traveled down the mountain towards the city of Whiterun. They avoided the main pathways as Ofric explained that as much as they enjoyed the life of banditry, there was also no way they could go near a large city. “So, you’re all well known then,” Vala asked.

“We’re infamous,” Ofric continued, “our only redeeming quality is that we only hit Imperial wagons. Sometimes, we provide the Stormcloaks with valuable information.”

“So why not just join up with the Stormcloaks to begin with?”

“Let’s not get into it,” Erik called back, “It’s long and complicated. Besides, you just wanted to learn how to survive out here. I won’t have you dragged into this.”

Vala nodded silently. She looked out and saw the grand city of Whiterun. Its walls were tall and sturdy, yet it still seemed small at the distance in which she was. The grass in this part of Skyrim was tall and yellowed. It felt dry and scratchy. Vala also noticed that there were more prey animals out here. Groups of deer and rabbits scurried around. “It’s just over here, past the bridge,” Ofric told her.

Erik showed her the pathway to the hideout. It was hidden very well. From the road it looked like a small hill but taking the path around showed an entirely different story. The cave’s entrance was held up with supports and a small door. “There it is,” Haedrig said.

“You all go in,” Erik said, “I’d like to speak to Vala for just a moment.”

The men nodded and went inside leaving Erik and Vala by themselves. “The rest of them won’t like you,” Erik stated bluntly.

“Oh, that’s nice, I guess,” Vala replied, not knowing what else to say.

“The only reason why my men put up with my decision to allow you to tag along is because I’m the leader of this gang. We’re all Nord in there,” he pointed at the cave, “I’m sure you understand.”

Vala nodded, unsurprised to hear Erik was the leader, “I do.”

“Good. Now here’s what we’re gonna do, each week you pick something you want to learn and then we teach you. You will not run any hits with us. I won’t have your life ruined before it begins anew.”

Erik turned his back to head inside. “Thank you,” Vala called, halting him in his tracks, “For everything.” 

He turned back towards her, trying to hide his blush, “Of course, Vala.” He headed inside, and she could feel her body skip a beat at the way he said her name. She didn’t know why her body was suddenly reacting in such a way. Vala brushed it off and took a deep breath and followed Erik inside.

“…and then she took his knife and fell the beast in one swift stab. It didn’t leave without its mark on her,” Vala could hear Haedrig’s voice echo throughout the cavern, “she’s got a nasty red gash running down the length of her face. When we gave her a potion to use to help it heal faster, with a small chance of leaving a scar behind you know what she said? She said ‘hell no! This is my proof…’”

“Proof that I can survive no matter what Skyrim throws at me,” Vala finished the substantial lie she had caught Haedrig in. She thought it was a good finish to the story.

Erik whispered to her, “I told them to make you more likeable. Stories like this often help.”

Vala nodded, “I figured.”

She was met with looks of curiosity and some hidden looks of anger. Nothing she wasn’t used to from back home. She lifted her head and straightened her back, “Name’s Vala. It’s a pleasure to meet you all.”

“Definitely an Imperial with that fancy talk,” a Nord woman wearing heavy plated armor said. She had war paint plastered around her eyes and a large battle axe at her side. Her hair was tied back in braids. The other’s around her chuckled at the comment, and even Vala smirked to show she wasn’t displeased by it. From what she could tell, Nords bonded over booze and banter. The opposite to civility and manners, something that Vala would need to get used to. The woman eyed her some more, “Why’s she got your knife Erik?”

“I haven’t bothered to take it back,” Erik shrugged.

The group seemed appeased by his answer, though the woman was still sending daggers in Vala’s direction. The band of thieves went off into different portions of the cave, which was surprisingly roomy. The largest cavern seemed to be considered where everyone met, and separate tunnels branched from that main area into smaller caverns that were separate rooming or storage areas. The cave was dark and damp, and the only source of light were torches that lined the walls, save for smaller holes in the roof of the cavern. Vala decided to choose an empty table in the far corner away from everyone else. She decided it would probably be smart staying out of everyone’s way.

The bench across from her creaked as Asmund sat down. “How are you doing,” he asked.

“Besides the fact that everyone here hates me, I’m doing pretty well,” Vala replied.

“Give it time.”

“No,” Vala said quickly, “I’d rather not have them warm up to me. No point in doing that when I’m gonna be gone in a few months. Right?”

Asmund nodded silently. They sat there for a few minutes, and Vala took more detailed notes of Asmund. He had gentle, brown eyes with small lines on the outside corners. A few strings of white were hidden in the dark black of his hair. Small cuts littered his face with a few scars. He looked rugged and tired, but he looked just as strong as all the other Nord men in the cave. The only difference between Asmund and everyone else was how quiet he was. The other’s preferred company of the group, but Asmund sat in silence with Vala. They both sat there quietly for a little bit. Vala cleared her throat, drawing Asmund’s attention, “I was wondering, if for my first day of training, would you teach me how to use a bow? It would be one of the most important skills to learn if I’m going to live out here.”

Asmund nodded, “Sure. We start tomorrow. I’ll let Erik know.”

“Sounds good.”

“You should give it back,” Asmund said quickly.

Vala starred at him confused. “Sorry,” he cleared his throat, “It’s why I came to sit over here. I wanted to tell you to give Erik back his knife. I’m just… really bad with words.”

“Oh,” Vala’s eyes widened, “I understand. I’ll do that now. Where…?”

“In the cavern that way,” Asmund pointed in the right direction, “his room is at the end.”

“Thanks, Asmund,” Vala smiled.

He didn’t say anything in reply which felt normal for him. Vala walked by a group on her way down the tunnel. She could feel them stare her down. The tunnel wasn’t long, but it did have a few sharp twists. Wood paneling cut through the part of a tunnel the seemed to be for privacy. She could hear someone in the cavern within. Vala knocked on the wood and called out, making her presence known. “Hey Erik, I’m here to give your knife back,” her voice echoed slightly from within.

“You may enter,” Erik called back.

His room was large and a few holes between rocks in the ceiling let air flow into the underground sanctuary. It also allowed the smoke from a blazing hearth in the center of the cavern to flow out. Pelts of large beasts lined the floor and armor racks contained various blades and armor pieces. Erik walked out from a hidden nook at the far end of cavern. “You finally decided to give me back my blade?” He was shirtless and Vala quickly turned around to give him some privacy.

“I’m sorry, if you’re busy I can come back later,” Vala stammered out, her cheeks felt flushed.

Erik chuckled, “I’m not busy now. Please come in and take a seat.”

She heard him shuffle, and she turned her head just a bit to see he was gone. Vala walked over and sat down next to the fire pit. It was warm and comforting. Erik soon reappeared wearing a ragged shirt and carrying a roll of bandages. He sat down a few feet from her and began to unroll the older bandages on his arm. The bite wound from the wolf was still red and swollen, but it looked like it was healing quickly from the potion earlier. “So,” he began, “you’re finally giving back the knife.”

“Asmund said it would be best. I didn’t realize that this weapon would have some sort of significance to you,” Vala explained, a slight twinge of guilt in her voice.

“It’s quite alright. If I wanted the weapon back I would’ve taken it,” Erik frowned down at his arm. “You were a Priestess, right?”

“Yeah, I guess I was,” Vala shrugged, “Why?”

“Did you specialize in restoration?”

“No.”

“No?”

Vala shook her head. “I can, however, unlock simple locks.”

“What use does that have?”

“You’re a bandit,” Vala smiled slyly, “you tell me.”

Erik starred at her in confusion, “Were you a thief as well?”

“You know I wasn’t,” Vala retorted, remembering the charm spell that was cast on her. “I used alteration because it was easiest to hide. I thought I was a good Priestess, but apparently I can’t tell when an illusion spell is cast on me, and I can’t cast a single restoration spell on top of that.”

“Don’t forget,” Erik motioned towards his bruised eye, “you’re also good at fighting. Which leads me to conclude that you are actually not a Priestess.”

Vala laughed to herself, “Well regardless, I do need to return this to you.” She held out the knife, handle towards Erik. He reached out and took it. “So,” she continued, “I asked Asmund to teach me to use a bow. Said he’d let you know about it. Wanted to start tomorrow.”

Erik sat in quiet contemplation. “Sounds good,” he finally said.

“Where do you want me to sleep?”

Erik glanced over at her. His grey eyes seemed to shine red in the firelight. “Not much room to sleep in a room by yourself.”

Vala nodded, “That should be fine.”

A knock at the wooden gate echoed around the two. “Hey Erik,” a woman’s voice called.

“Come in,” Erik called back.

The woman from earlier walked into the cavern. “I see you’re busy,” the woman eyed Vala.

“I was just on my way out,” Vala said standing up.

“Well but first, we were discussing rooming situations,” Erik stood up as well. “Vala will need a temporary place to stay.”

“I’m only going to be here for a few months,” Vala explained to the woman. “Just learn a few basic skills and then move on.”

“Oh,” the woman said amused, “I can help teach you then.”

Erik eyed her, “Frigga, play nice.”

“You know I do Erik.”

Vala interjected, “No it will be good. Training with Frigga. She seems very strong and capable. I’d love training under her. That is, if she doesn’t mind.”

Frigga seemed surprised at Vala’s answer and Erik did too. Frigga shook herself and puffed out her chest as much as the armor allowed her to, “Very well then. We will start as soon as you are ready. As for your sleeping situation, there’s an empty bed in my room you can use.”

Erik nodded, hesitant on the decision, “Fine. But Frigga, she’s learning survival skills. She is not to help with anything we do. Tomorrow she trains with Asmund.”

Frigga nodded and led Vala out of Erik’s room, “Of course.”

The two women walked out of the cavern and down the tunnel. Vala suddenly felt herself thrown against the wall, Frigga clasped a hand over Vala’s mouth. “I don’t know what you’re getting at, Imperial,” she spat, “But I don’t like it at all.”

Vala pushed the woman’s hand of her mouth, keeping her voice low, “I hate them as much as you do. I have no intention of selling you all out, doing so would lead to my demise.”

Frigga’s features seemed to soften, “You make one mistake. You breath, sneeze or cough in any way that seems suspicious and I will see to it…”

“I get it,” Vala whispered harshly, “you won’t have to worry about anything. I’ll show you you won’t.”

Frigga continued down the main cavern and Vala followed her. Frigga’s room was smaller, with two bed rolls on either side of the room. A small chest lay at the foot of each bed. The only source of light and warmth were the torches on the wall. “We start once your training with Asmund stops. Food is being served in the main hall. Eat what you can and get some rest. Your training starts tomorrow.”

Vala nodded, “I will do my best.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Up and at ‘em!”

Vala rolled over and groaned. She really didn’t want to go train today. As it turned out, no matter what Asmund tried to help her with, she was a terrible shot. Not to mention her fingers were sore and red from the drawstring of the bow, coupled with a sore body from sleeping on the floor for the last few nights made a disaster of a woman. Frigga was enjoying the whole ordeal and seemed to revel in Vala’s pain and suffering. Frigga continued on, “It’s your last day of training with Asmund. Then the real fun begins!”

Vala was relieved that today was the last day of bow training. Asmund felt similar feelings. Though his were borderline ecstatic. Vala dressed quickly and walked with Frigga out to the main cavern. Breakfast was being served and a few members were already seated and eating. Excited chatter filled the room. Erik and a few of the others went out on a risky hit, but if they succeeded they would be highly rewarded. The group was due back in sometime that day. 

“So,” Frigga asked, “What do you want to start learning from me?”

“Something that won’t make me want to chop my fingers off,” Vala muttered, sitting down at a table with a small plate of food.

Asmund sat down across from the women and began silently eating. Frigga began listing the different skills she could assist in teaching Vala. Asmund spoke up, “She needs more time to learn the bow.”

“You had your week,” Frigga stated defensively.

“It’s how she’ll be able to hunt for food.”

“I can’t even hit a stand-still target, Asmund,” Vala said, “I’m siding with Frigga on this one.”

“Oh, thank god,” Asmund hummed appreciatively, “I really didn’t want to try and teach you for longer than that.”

“Would you, if I had asked?”

“Only under that circumstance,” Asmund nodded.

Frigga chuckled, “You really do suck at the bow Vala.”

Vala rubbed her temples, “I know!”

“You did hit a target once,” Frigga egged on, “Though it wasn’t the target we all thought you were aiming for.”

“I told you that was an accident,” Vala defended, mouth gaped.

Asmund chuckled quietly, “It’s okay Vala, we all know you were getting revenge on Haedrig.” 

Vala was embarrassed. The second day of learning how to fire a bow and she misfired. Vala got up from the table and grabbed a second plate of food and stalked off down a tunnel that led to a medical area. A few bandits chuckled as she passed, and her face burned red. She walked into the cavern. Haedrig was on his side facing away from her. “I brought you breakfast,” Vala called out to him.

Haedrig grunted and he tried to sit up. Vala brought over the food and handed it to him. “How’re you feeling?”

“I told you, I’m just fine,” Haedrig smiled slightly, wincing in pain as he shifted.

Vala sat down next to him and kept him company. They didn’t talk about much, just questions here and there about childhood stories, or advice on wielding weapons. Haedrig had told her that she didn’t need to keep him company, but she felt so bad about what she had done to him she insisted on being there. “Everyone’s saying we’re even now,” Vala told him.

He nodded, “You got a nasty scar from a wolf, and I got shot in the ass. Totally even situations.”

Vala had been looking away when he said that. Her cheeks burned red, and she looked back towards Haedrig. He was smiling, opposite to the few hours after she had shot him in the ass. “It’d make an interesting story to tell people,” she suggested.

He poked at the last of the food on the plate, “That it would.”

Haedrig handed the plate back to Vala and she left him to rest. Vala returned the dish to be cleaned and she headed outside. Asmund was waiting patiently next to the firing range with a bow and set of arrows in a quiver. He held out the quiver for Vala to put on, and she did. She grabbed the bow and immediately got into position. Her right foot facing Asmund and her left foot turned towards the target. She turned her head, eyes on her target, she lifted the bow and cocked an arrow along the string and pulled back so her right thumb was resting against her jaw. Asmund nodded, impressed that her formation had improved. He noticed that she was struggling to hold the bowstring steady. “Looks good,” Asmund informed her, “Now this time, try to hit the right dummy.”

Vala let go of the string and the arrow whizzed by. Missing the target entirely.

The rest of the day went by just the same. Sometime Vala would have a few observers watching her progress. Asmund continued to teach her how to compromise for wind and how that changed how she should aim. She came close a few times, but only on the outer edges of the circular target. She didn’t realize how much time had passed until she heard cheering from behind her. Erik and the others had returned, and it sounded like everything was worthwhile.

Vala fired the last arrow from her quiver. This one flew over the target and hit the dirt of the hill behind it. She muttered under her breath and stormed off, shoving the bow and quiver back into Asmund’s arms, who had come out to greet Erik and the other’s. He looked confused until he looked over at the untouched target. He frowned and looked over his shoulder in sympathy, but Vala was nowhere to be seen. 

She plopped down in bed and threw her hands over her eyes. She heard Frigga walk in. Without removing her hands, she spoke out, “I think I’d like to start hand-to-hand. At least I know I’m good at that.”

“I know you are.”

Vala peeked through her fingers and saw Erik leaning nonchalantly at the entrance to the room. She groaned and rolled over.

“What, you aren’t happy to see me?”

“It’s not that,” Vala replied, “I’m just not in the mood.”

“Because you suck at the bow, and can only shoot Haedrig in the ass?”

Vala groaned again and pulled her pillow over her head, “I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

She heard Erik walk into the room. He knelt down next to her, “Everyone starts from somewhere, Vala.”

She shivered, she didn’t understand why her body acted the way it did whenever she heard Erik say her name. He tugged at her arm, “Come on, show me what you’re doing.”

“No,” Vala insisted, pulling her arm out of Erik’s grip.

After a few quiet moments, he got up and left. Vala was grateful that he was giving her her privacy. She laid there quietly and listened to the revelry happening in the main cavern. After an hour or so it quieted down, and everyone went their separate ways. Frigga came in soon after and fell asleep. Vala could smell alcohol and knew the Nord woman was incapacitated for the rest of the night. Vala got up and slowly made her way to the entrance of the hideout. She was so close to hitting that target.  
Vala made her way to the makeshift firing range. Asmund had left the bow next to the target along with a few of the arrows in the quiver. Vala put on the quiver and stood back at the firing line. She got into position and began firing. The cold, night air made her shiver, she could see her breath in front of her. She went through half the arrows when a voice from behind her startled her.

“Looks like you’ve almost got it.”

“God dammit Erik,” Vala swore turning around to face him. “Do you always make it a point to bother people.”

Erik shrugged, “I just wanted to check up and see how everything was going for you.”

“It’s not good,” Vala fumed, “thanks for asking.”

Erik cocked and eyebrow and remained silent, forcing Vala to continue filling in the space. “Frigga makes it a point to enjoy any amount of pain I’m in, I shot Haedrig in the ass and…” Vala felt herself tear up and her voice cracked, “I don’t think I can survive any of this Erik.”

Erik held her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. His hair and beard was a bit more scraggly than usual, and he was covered in dirt and new bruises. His breath smelt of mead and tobacco. Their eyes met, and Vala tried to look away as tears began to drip down her rosy cheeks. Erik used his thumbs to brush them away, “Shh, it’s okay Vala. No one was born an expert.”

Vala pulled out from his hands and wiped the rest of her tears away. Erik ushered her back towards the target. He asked her to go back into formation and she complied. She showed him how she stood and how she pulled the bowstring. Erik stepped closer behind her, she could feel the heat of his body to close to her own. He moved his feet to push her own into a tighter stance. He used his hands to help her turn her upper back and head into a tighter angle. Vala felt her heartbeat rise as his hands and body moved around her own. She thanked how dark it was outside, but even in the thin sliver of moon-light she was sure he could see how red her face was.

Erik grabbed her hands and helped her cock the bow back. “Just like this,” he murmured into her ear. His breath dancing against the shell of her ear. “Now,” he instructed, still whispering lowly, “when you release, it’s best to breath out. You have more control that way. You understand?”

Vala nodded. Erik moved her hands to help her aim, before removing them. Vala missed his touch. “Whenever you’re ready, Vala,” Erik stepped back.

She breathed out, slowly, like how Erik instructed. She let the string go and watched in the dark as the arrow flew towards the target. She heard a thunk and walked forward in disbelief. Erik stepped forward with her to get a better look. The arrow had planted itself on the outermost circle of the target. “I did it,” Vala said quietly. “I really did it,” she said louder looking at Erik, excitement glistening in her eyes.

“You did it,” Erik affirmed, hyping her up even more.

Vala felt tears threaten her eyes again, but this time it was due to her excitement. She turned quickly towards Erik and threw her arms around his waist in a crude embrace. “Thank you so much,” she said, before suddenly realizing that she was holding him. He was warm and hot to the touch. She could feel the muscle beneath his clothes as she pressed up against his body. She quickly stepped away, face flushed red. She hurried back inside the hideout, leaving Erik standing next to the target all alone.


	7. Chapter 7

Vala woke up early the next morning, she didn’t sleep well that night. Nervous excitement fluttered around in her stomach. Vala quickly got dressed, and she heard Frigga groan and turn over behind her. “It’s the butt crack of dawn, go back to bed,” Frigga moaned rubbing her head.

Vala offered her a mug of water. Frigga sniffed it and hesitantly took a sip. “I didn’t do anything to it, wouldn’t want to kill my teacher on the first day,” Vala chuckled.

Frigga lifted the mug, “Thanks.”

Vala waited for Frigga in the main cavern. She sat down patiently at a table and watched a patrol come back from their shift. At that moment Erik walked out and greeted the patrol. They reported in to him and left to go sleep. Vala averted her eyes, hoping that Erik would go back to bed. She felt herself blush as she remembered that she had hugged Erik last night. She didn’t know why she had just hugged him like that, she just got excited and lost control. She shook her head, being around a bunch of rambunctious Nords was doing things to her. Things she never would have done before.

Frigga came out, still rubbing her head. “Alright, let’s go,” she announced, nudging Vala’s shoulder.

Vala’s eyes wandered back towards Erik as she followed Frigga out of the cave. She couldn’t decide if the light dusting of pink was from the torch he was standing next to, or if it was blood rushing to the surface of his face. She secretly hoped it was the latter.

“Now, bows are a good skill to learn, but the wilds of Skyrim hold more than deer and rabbits. There’s also other troops of bandits, and people who are just up to now good,” Frigga explained, “I can teach you self-defense, hand-to-hand combat and how to use just about any basic weapon. Like I said at the beginning of the week, though, you step out of line and that’s it. Get it?”

“Got it,” Vala replied.

She followed Frigga across the bridge to a large, old fort. There were broken down barricades that led to the front of the fort. Old cages filled with skeletons lined the outer walls. Ofric was busy taking them down and moving them away. “What is this place,” Vala inquired.

“Some bandits tried to raid us about a month ago, they lived here, but not anymore. We’ve been cleaning it up and planned on moving into this area. My only issue with it is how close it is to the main road. Whiterun patrols do rarely come out this far. However, it does have a good training ground.” 

Frigga was right. The training area was open. Various dummies were lined up against a wall. Each made for a different purpose. Some were stuffed with straw, and some were covered in metal. Ofric came down from the wall, “What are you all planning on training with today?”

“Fists,” Vala said bringing hers up, “Let’s go.”

Training with Frigga was extremely different than training with Neph. The first example being that Neph insisted on training only on dummies. Frigga on the other hand seemed excited to be able to punch the meek Imperial woman. Frigga was tall and almost as muscular as her male counterparts. Vala dodged a blow that would have hit her face, she was panting heavily, meanwhile Frigga was barely breaking a sweat. Ofric was taking a break now and watching the two go at it. Every now and then, he’d shout out words of encouragement. Frigga suddenly twisted her body, and the full force of her fist made contact with Vala’s stomach and pushed upwards hitting her diaphragm. Vala keeled over clutching her chest and stomach, trying to cough and get through the spasms.

“What’re you trying to do, kill her,” Ofric shouted running over to Vala’s side.

“No one will go easy on her out there, Ofric. It’s best not to baby her,” Frigga walked away rubbing her fists.

Ofric helped move Vala so she was sitting up. “How,” Vala asked between shaky breathes, “how… do you hit… that hard?”

Frigga turned around, walking backwards, and flexed a bicep. Vala laid down, “I’m going to need more training.”

Ofric chuckled, “You need to breath first.”

Vala took a thirty-minute break before getting back up and continuing her training. Frigga still refused to go easy on Vala. The sky greyed and rain began pouring down. The cold water soothed Vala’s bruises that she was accumulating from Frigga’s punches. The ground became muddy and both Vala and Frigga started slipping. Mud splashed up Vala’s leg, sliding down her boots. The rain had now soaked through their clothes. Frigga decided that after the fifth time Vala slipped and fell to call it and wait for the clouds to clear. 

They walked into the dilapidated building to wait out the storm. Ofric had gotten a fire going for them and was beginning to work on food. Frigga excused herself and headed towards the kitchen to see if Ofric needed any help. Vala stood close to the fireplace and wrung her shirt as best she could. She looked around, the room was empty, and she could hear Frigga and Ofric laughing in the distance. She assumed it was safe, so she quickly took off her shirt to more easily wring it out. The fire helped warm up her flesh. She noticed that even in the warmth, she was still covered in goosebumps and her breasts were perked up. Bruises were beginning to blossom on her sides and ribs. The insides of her fingers hurt, her stomach hurt and now her knuckles hurt.

She heard the door move from behind her and she quickly put her shirt back on. Vala turned around to face the door but no one was there. Ofric and Frigga could be heard a few rooms over, so Vala peeked out into the hallway and saw no one. She shrugged it off and went to go join her companions in the kitchen. Ofric began instructing Vala on the best way to prepare and preserve different fruits, vegetables and meats. Vala listened intently and asked questions about food preparation. It seemed that Ofric was the unofficial cook for the bandit troupe. The three laughed and Frigga grabbed out three bottles of mead from a cabinet. “After this morning, I’d think you would take a break,” Vala joked.

“Hey now, don’t stand between a Nord and their mead,” Ofric chided.

Frigga chuckled and took a sip from the bottle in her palm. The three ate and drank and chatted together. “So,” Frigga turned to Vala, “tell us a little bit about yourself.”

Vala took a drink, “What exactly do you want to know?”

“Anything,” Frigga replied, “I want to know about the Imperial woman who somehow managed to get herself in this position.”

“That’s a long story, Frigga. You’ll need to be more specific.”

“Fine.”

Frigga thought about it for a while. “Who taught you what you do know about combat?”

“I learned and taught myself in secret. Well, it wasn’t all by myself. I trained with my… friend… her name was Nephatah,” Vala winced using the word ‘friend’. Neph was so much more to her than a ‘friend’, but Vala was hesitant to disclose her love life, let alone any information on her sexuality. Even that was something she was still trying to figure out.

“Your friend is very smart,” Frigga complimented, “I wouldn’t mind meeting that Imperial.”

Vala chuckled, “Actually, Neph’s a Dunmer.”

Ofric choked on his drink, and Vala watched Frigga’s face scrunch in disgust. Vala continued, “I’m guessing Nords don’t like Dunmer?”

Frigga replied before Ofric could explain, “I don’t like ‘em. They’re too sneaky for me. If they want to kill someone, they should do it out in the open like the rest of us.”

Vala knew exactly what Frigga was referring to. Neph had mentioned the Morag Tong. They were paid assassins who were given Writs of Execution to dispatch anyone. Vala nodded, “The Morag Tong. Neph thought the same thing. Ironically though, she did want to become a mercenary.”

“Big difference between assassination and mercenary work,” Frigga muttered.

Ofric and Vala nodded in silent agreement. “I’m sorry,” Vala said to Frigga, “For bringing it up.”

Frigga shook her head, “I’m sorry. It’s just… I had a family. But my father wasn’t that great of a man.”

Vala placed her hand gently on Frigga’s, “You don’t have to explain. Let’s just finish eating and start training again. I don’t hear the rain anymore.”

Ofric looked away, giving the strong Norse woman her privacy. Tears threatened to spill over her brown eyes. “It wasn’t their place,” Frigga murmured.

They all sat in silence. Vala took another drink. “Oh, I don’t think I’ll be able to go back to training after this.”

Frigga chuckled and wiped her face, “Can’t handle your drink?”

Ofric chimed in, “This is her, what, third or fourth drink?”

“This week?”

“Ever,” Vala confirmed, “It’s my third drink ever.”

The group laughed about it. Vala’s words were slurring. “Oh, how about this,” she giggled, “I can use magic to unlock locks. That’s something only a few people know about.”

“Really,” asked Ofric in disbelief.

Vala nodded, “Really.”

“Prove it,” he retorted, standing up and grabbing a small box and key.

They watched as he inserted the key into the lock and twisted it. He threw the key aside and pulled on the lid to show it was locked. Ofric handed the small box to Vala. She took it gingerly in her hands. She tugged on it to show it was, in fact, locked. “Alright,” she slurred, “now watch closhly.”

She rubbed her thumb against the lock. A faint purple light glowed from inside the tiny lock. She handed the box back to Ofric, “Here.”

Ofric took the box, his rough hands rubbed against Vala’s bruised knuckles causing her to wince.

“Sorry,” he quickly apologized.

Vala shrugged. Frigga watched intently. Ofric pushed his thumb under the lid, and the box opened easily. Their eyes widened. 

“No way,” Ofric laughed in disbelief.

Even Frigga looked impressed. “That would help us a lot,” Frigga took the box, “are you sure you don’t want to join up with us?”

“Are you sure you _want_ me to join?”

Frigga chuckled at Vala’s joke, “You make a good point.”

They all laughed together. A door opened from somewhere behind them. Vala turned her head and saw Erik, Haedrig and Asmund walk in. They were carrying boxes of provisions. “We’re moving here Frigga,” Erik announced, “You can’t change my mind.”

Frigga nodded, displeased, “Couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

Vala stood up, “I need to find a place to sleep.”

Frigga helped her up, “Let’s find somewhere, huh?”

Vala leaned against Frigga and they walked by the three men who entered. Erik’s eyes briefly met Vala’s before he looked away and walked towards the table, setting the box of food down. The two women passed by several rooms before finding one with a large bed in it. Vala’s eyes widened, “Oh gods is that an actual bed?”

Vala plopped down on it. It smelt of blood and sweat. The materials would need to be replaced soon, but Vala didn’t care. She was excited that she would soon be sleeping on an actual bed. She curled up on the old furs and let the alcohol induced sleep take her.

_”You’re doing very well Vala.”_

_She turned around and was face to face with Shezarr’s aspect. She bowed her head lowly, “It’s been a while, my lord.”_

_They were standing in the cave Vala had recognized from her second dream. The way the pine trees and bushes moved and swayed as the wind blew from the large hole in the roof. “To what do I owe this honor,” Vala asked her God._

_“Your training is going very well. However, it is going slowly. If you want, you can use this dream plane to practice some more. I can teach you how to utilize your powers within this dream,” he held out a glowing orb, “take this and you will be able to do whatever you wish in your dreams.”_

_The orb was clear, but it glowed red. Inside the clear portion of the orb swirled pure un-adultered magicka. The orbs power was potent. Vala raised an eyebrow, Shezarr wasn’t acting how he had in her dreams, and his words seemed forceful. Like he was pushing her to a decision, not giving her a choice. This figure in front of her was not Shezarr. Vala reached towards the orb and backhanded it out of the imposters grip._

_“You are not Shezarr,” Vala growled._

_The figure morphed before her. She watched at the armor changed into normal cloth and skin. Soon an old woman carrying a staff stood before her. “You really are a follower of Shezarr. Strong and determined. My offer still stands,” the woman crooned._

_“I will not take your offer, you hag!”_

_The old woman screeched and lunged towards Vala with dagger-like nails. Vala stood her ground and starred down the woman. She clutched her hands into fists, blocked the incoming blow and punched the old woman in the jaw. The woman staggered back and fell onto the ground. The water soaked up her dress. Vala rubbed her fists, even in her dream her training with Frigga was paying off._

_“You’ll pay for this!”_

_The woman grabbed the orb and vanished into nothingness, leaving Vala standing there in cold water._

_“I look forward to it.”_

Vala woke up in cold sweat with a throbbing headache. There was a pitcher and an empty mug on the bedside table next to her. A small piece of paper was next to it with the letter ‘F’ written in charcoal. Vala would have to thank Frigga for the kindness. She took a drink straight from the pitcher. There was also a pile of clean clothes on top of the dresser. Vala quickly got changed and brushed out her hair with her fingers. She tied her hair back into a high ponytail and practically charged out of her room.

Frigga was standing in the kitchen laughing with Haedrig. Asmund sat quietly in the corner of the room. “Where are you going,” Frigga asked, noting how wound up Vala was.

Vala grabbed a sweet roll off the table and shoved it in her mouth. She motioned for Frigga to follow her, “Out to do some training.”

They walked out to the yard, Frigga hot on her heels. “Where is this all coming from,” Frigga asked, confused.

Vala put her fists up, “We doing this, or not?”

Frigga put her fists up in response, “Only if you’re ready to get your ass kicked again.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Contains graphic depictions of violence

Vala had made significant progress training with the Nords. Out of everyone Frigga was most impressed with Vala’s progress and often boasted about turning a meek Imperial woman into a fearsome predator. Vala herself had learned much. She knew how to hunt and skin beasts for pelts to sell and for meat to preserve. Wielding weapons now seemed second nature to her, and much like Frigga, now had a preference for long swords. She also put on a little muscle weight. She wasn’t as bulky as Frigga and a few of the men often joked that Vala was ‘Frigga’s mini’.

It was a cloudy, humid day and Vala was outside watching Erik and a group of the others leave Fort Greymoor and head towards Helgen. Word had spread that there was a supply caravan heading there from Cyrodiil to spread amongst the rest of the Imperial armies of Skyrim. Destroying or capturing the supplies would slow the Imperials down and hopefully loosen their grasp in Skyrim. Erik left instructions for the few in his band who stayed behind, including Vala. They hadn’t spoken since the incident at the archery field, and if they did speak, it was just to ensure her progress was smooth. 

“Vala,” his deep timbre drew her attention, “I take it that you are almost finished with your training?”

“Yes, just about finished,” Vala nodded, “Frigga had one more thing she wanted to make sure I knew before I left.”

Erik nodded and shuffled his feet awkwardly before putting his hands on his hips. “What’s really nice,” Vala continued, trying to help, “Is that now I can fire an arrow without shooting someone in the ass. Thanks to you for helping me, of course.”

“Oh yeah,” Erik turned, a dusty-pink covered his rugged cheeks.

The awkward atmosphere only became heavier. “There’s much more I wish I could say,” Vala said, “But at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter.”

Erik tried to reply but Vala interrupted with the lift of her hand, “It doesn’t matter because you’ll go your way. Pillaging carts and selling information to the Stormcloaks to keep your business running. And I will go away and start my new life.”

“What were you planning,” Erik whispered, eyes lowering to meet hers in a gentle gaze.

“Mercenary work probably,” Vala shrugged, laughing to herself, “maybe I’ll end up joining the Stormcloaks.”

Erik reached forward and slowly rubbed his thumb down the healed scar on Vala’s face. “Whatever you choose,” Erik murmured gently, “I hope we are allies.”

Vala slammed down the mug of mead on the table in front of her. The tavern bustled around her. Hushed words between the patrons. Glares between the groups on either side. Vala’s eyes wandered towards the door. Cavillo was late. Again. To her left a Battle-Born slung an insult at a Grey-Mane and the bar broke out in confused fist fighting. Vala slumped off the bar stool and snuck out on the outskirts of the brawl. A large man stumbled backwards towards Vala, and she dodged with a quick step. A fist came flying out at her and she spun to dodge that too. She made it to the door just as the barkeep, Hulda, and Saadia, the Redgaurd woman who helped Hulda, jumped in to calm the fighting. The outside of The Bannered Mare was much more quiet than the inside. The dark sky was dotted and illuminated with stars. Vala recognized the warrior constellation hidden by a few stray clouds.

She had only taken a few steps outside when the tell-tale smell of smoke hit her nostrils. Visions and memories of months past swam in her head. “Leavin’ so soon,” a familiar drawl pulled her attention to the shadows.

“Glad to see you could join me, Cavillo,” Vala smirked.

The sly man stepped forward, “I wouldn’t miss it for anythin’.”

Cavillo walked along Vala towards Breezehome, a lovely gift for the Thane of Whiterun. “Are your prices still runnin’ the same? Or, like all other mercs have you gone up,” Cavillo asked.

“Depends on the mission,” Vala shrugged, “Gotta make a pretty septim somehow, and be alive at the end of the day.”

“That’s why I like you Aenia. An Imperial with Nord humor. Straight to the point, like that blade you wear, and yet gentle on the eyes.”

Vala laughed off Cavillo’s humor. If she wanted to get paid, she knew to keep her mouth shut about the obvious racism. Working as a mercenary in a city that had no loyalties paid off for her. Anyone would hire her services and she could be picky about what job she took. An unfortunate truth of the matter though, was not many could afford her services, and the few that could were extremists to say the least. Cavillo was one of these extremists. He was a sly Imperial man who was out for himself. She didn’t know where his loyalties lay, so she kept her true identity hidden from him.

“Tomorrow we clear out a nearby bandit camp,” Cavillo announced, “you aren’t going to get much rest at the tavern, so you can stay with me in Breezehome for the night.”  
The two of them walked up the steps and into the home. The fire in the hearth blazed bright and warm. “How much coin you want,” Cavillo asked, opening a chest in the back of the room with a key he kept in a pocket.

“Three-hundred,” Vala said matter-of-factly.

“You’re worse than the wenches in Riften.”

She shrugged, “Either you pay or find someone else. And you sure as hell ain’t gonna find someone better than me.”

The man smirked, and pulled out a hefty coin purse. He pulled out a few coins and handed them over. She could see him better in the fire light. He was thin and lanky, with a pointed nose and narrowed eyes. His brown hair was greased back over his head. “You’ll get the rest when the job is done.”

Vala counted the twenty drakes in her palm, “You know how to make a lady come back for more.”

Cavillo waved a hand, “Uninterested sweetie. Guest bed is yours for the night.”

Vala knew exactly where to go. She headed up the stairs of the small home to a room on the left. Inside was a small bed covered in fur and straw. She removed her armor and placed her weapons in a wooden chest at the foot of the bed. The wood creaked as she laid down.

“Up and at ‘em,” a loud voice called throughout the house.

Vala could have sworn she had only closed her eyes for a few moments. She opened her eyes and got dressed, early sunlight filtered into the windows downstairs. Cavillo and her quickly ate breakfast before packing up and leaving the home. Their journey took them west, in a direction Vala hadn’t taken in months. “Where are we going,” she inquired.

“Not like you to question, Aenia,” Cavillo noted. 

He was right. She did exactly what she was paid to do. They soon passed the rubble of the Western Watchtower that was still in need of desperate repair. Vala swallowed, the idea of dragons returning left a lump in her throat. As if the world wasn’t already a shitshow. Vala looked around, something about this place felt familiar. Though all those months ago there was tall grass and not burned dirt. Anxiety filled her stomach.

“I received word from the Jarl that some bandits had taken refuge in an old fort up here,” Cavillo explained, “He wants them cleared out immediately.”

Vala felt the blood leave her face. Images flashed before her eyes. Those people had taken care of her and helped her. “Of course my Thane,” she replied, trying to hide the quivering of her voice. It felt like hours, but shortly the tell-tale crumbling walls peaked over the rolling hills of the wilds. Fort Greymoor. A place she thought she would never return to. 

“I’m sure yur’ not gonna have a problem,” Cavillo inquired.

Vala drew her longsword and equipped her helmet. He seemed satisfied with her answer. She approached the fort alone. Cavillo knew she preferred not having to worry about others safety on the battlefield. Her sword was long and sharp. It was more finely made than the brutish longswords the Nords fought with. Back home in Cyrodiil her blade was known as a claymore. It was more lightweight than all other longblades in its class. Her armor didn’t change much. She enjoyed the lightweight and warm feel fur armor provided. It also gave her more mobility. She was less concerned about how powerful her attacks were, and was more concerned with deadly precision.   
The pathway leading up to the fort was lined with pointed barricades, she could hear a voice from up ahead.

“I’ll shoot if you come any further!”

Vala turned and saw a bandit on the wall, bow drawn in her direction. Vala took a bold step forward. The man, a Dunmer, gave the warning once more. Vala suddenly charged in, quick steps avoiding each point of the barricades. She heard the man swear from above, and felt the wind rush by her face. He took his shot and missed. As they usually did. The Dunmer alerted his troupe and soon the whole fort was roused. Vala ran up the stairs of the walkway and took a swing at the archer, her blade made direct contact with his neck. She pulled the blade across and sliced open the Dunmer’s neck, head only still connected by his spine. Sticky blood spewed from the opening covering the wooden walkway.

More bandits exited into the open area. Some with spells readied and others with weapons drawn. She lowered her claymore, the pointed blade’s tip resting on the wooden walk in one hand, her other now free. She looked at the sea of unfamiliar faces. These were not the people she left behind. She lifted up her other hand ignoring the threats that were being spewed at her. Her hand glowed purple in color and she watched as a looming cloud pushed her opponents down to the ground. Confusion erupted amongst the thieves as they became too weary to move and attack. Vala walked calmly off the walkway to her prey. She had only thirty seconds to do what must be done.  
Cavillo walked into the fort clapping. “Well done, Aenia. I knew you could do it!”

He stepped carefully around the decapitated bodies, blood soaking the ground and into his shoes. Vala had one man left she did not kill. The bandit leader himself. “Ah, the Jarl will be so pleased ta see you gone,” Cavillo crooned.

Vala could have sworn the eyes she was looking into were the greyish-blue of Erik’s and that the smell of tobacco permeated the air around her. Her blade lay sideways against his jugular, the cold steel threatened to break his flesh at any given moment. She blinked and saw the man before her wasn’t Erik, and a breathy sigh left her as she sliced the blade against his throat. There were only a few gurgled gasps before the man moved no longer.

“Your payment, as promised,” Cavillo handed her a coin purse.

She pocketed the money, “Thank you, Sir.”

“I’m going to take a look around, see if I can’t find anythin’ worth my time.”

Vala nodded and followed suit. The inside of the fort looked eerily similar as the day she left, and yet so different. Blood from innocents were dried in the cracks and grooves of the stone floor. Surfaces were thick with dust and debris. Vala peered into the kitchen, sitting behind the table on top of the hearth was a small lockbox. Vala grabbed it and gingerly brushed the layer of dust coating from the top of the box. She tried to open it, but it was locked. Her hand shook with power, and although she used a great deal of it burdening the enemy earlier, she just had enough to unlock the trinket box. The box revealed its secret. A small, broken arrowhead lay at the bottom. Tears threatened her eyes.  
“What’s this,” Cavillo asked, peering over Vala’s shoulder, “ah it’s just junk.” He pushed her hard enough to knock the box from her hands. “Try to focus on the more _valuable_ items.”

The wooden box thumped onto the ground, a resounding and hollow sound echoed around the fort. Vala starred at her shaking, empty hands.  
Rage and agony pumped through her veins. “We should hurry,” his drawled voice invading her thoughts, “I have a party at the end of the week near Solitude and I don’t want to be late. It’s a long journey.”

Vala clenched her fists, “Yes of course.”

She secretly pocketed the box and arrowhead before wandering around the musty old fort. The new bandits hadn’t found anything of value, and most other items that belonged to Erik’s band was no longer there. She closed her eyes and tried to remember that day. Everyone had gotten ready to intercept supplies from Helgen, a risky job as the supply caravan would be heavily guarded. The glory outweighed the risks. They didn’t come back in time, so she headed to Whiterun to find out what happened. She remembered the fear and panic she felt when a guard told her that no one could enter the city with dragons about. Vala ran as fast as her legs could carry her, through Riverwood towards Helgen. She could see the smoke waft up past the great pines, the snow doing little to put out the dragon fire.

The smell of burning wood and flesh assaulted her. The ashes of the city floated around her. Still hot coals were blown into the wind and her eyes burned. Tears streamed down her face and they mixed with the dirt at her feet where they dropped. She didn’t understand why she felt so strongly for some bandits. She shook her head. They weren’t just any bandits. They were people who helped her. Who trained her. Who laughed and cried alongside here. They were the family she never had, that she _wished_ she had.

Vala opened her eyes. She was back in the dilapidated ruins of Fort Greymoor. One thought raced through her mind over and over again. She marched back to where Cavillo stood at the entrance of the fort. “Find anything useful,” he asked.

“Nope, nothing but junk.”

“That’s too bad,” he thought for a moment, “You know... you should take a break. Come with me to Solitude. You could be my guest.”

She shook her head, “No, I’m afraid I must keep working. I don’t have the same luxury you do.”

He shrugged, “Suit yourself.”

Vala was glad he didn’t press the matter. She had avoided every Imperial sided settlement, and if she ever did go out that far, she always wore something to obscure her face. It was too dangerous for her to otherwise.

She followed Cavillo back to Whiterun, dusk was quickly approaching. She said her good-byes and began heading towards Riverwood. It was much calmer there than in the city, and Delphine knew exactly how to keep everything under the table. Vala was surprised that Delphine had even remembered her from when they first met. It was closer to midnight when Vala trugged into The Sleeping Giant. Ognar, the barkeep on staff, was finishing some cleanup. The tired Nord new the drill and Vala placed ten septims on the counter. “Your bed is still open, as usual, breakfast will be ready when you wake up.”

“Thanks Ognar,” Vala smiled.

The Nord man had a large nose and long-shoulder length brown hair. His hair was usually pulled back into a short pony, but tonight he had it loose. Vala barely sat down on her bed when there was a knock at the door. “It’s me,” Delphine whispered.

Vala opened the door to let the proprietor of the establishment inside. “I was hoping I could hire your services.”

“Of course Delphine, what is the job?”

“Don’t agree just yet, I need you to hear me out.”

The concern in the woman’s voice put Vala on edge. “I need you to retrieve something -well _someone_ very important. I can’t go because of my duties here at the Inn. You’ll be paid very well.”

“Delphine,” Vala interjected, “If someone’s been kidnapped I’d gladly do it.”

“Just listen,” Delphine continued, “It’s hard for me to explain how I know this, but there were survivors during the Helgen attack.”

“Bullshit,” Vala seethed, “Don’t mess with me on that.”

“I’m not!”

Vala rubbed her temples, “Fine, let’s say people did survive a dragon attack, what happened?”

“The Imperials had captured a small group of civilians. Amongst them was Ulfric Stormcloak, leader of the Stormcloaks. Soon after a dragon attacked. Those who tried to escape were caught by the Imperials and kept in the fort’s dungeon until the dragon left. From there the prisoner’s were escorted to the Thalmor Embassy near Solitude. I know all this because I have reliable sources from within the Embassy. The Thalmor believe they have the Dovahkiin, the Dragonborn, within their possession. Which is why they weren’t concerned when Ulfric made his escape. They have a true voice user, not a self-taught Nord.”

Vala’s head snapped up and she made eye contact with Delphine, “The Dovahkiin? Are you sure?”

The Breton woman was taken aback, “What do you know of the Dragonborn?”

“I have my sources as well, Delphine.”

“Then you know that if the Thalmor uses them, that could be the end of Skyrim itself.”

Vala knew what Delphine said was half-true. According to Shezarr, the Dovahkiin would stop the End Times. Not the Civil War itself, although they could potentially play a part within the Civil War. She decided to play along anyways, “Yes of course. We need to get into that Embassy, and... I think I know how.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To anyone keeping up with this, thanks! Sorry I haven't posted sooner the holidays really took a lot out of me.


	9. Chapter 9

As the day wore on Vala’s mood changed from anxious excitement to bitter joy to pure annoyance. The surprise and confusion Vala felt when Delphine informed her she was part of the Blades was the spark that set the explosion. Vala had read stories about the Blades’ role in halting the Oblivion Crisis along with the Hero of Kvatch. As the fourth era began after the sacrifice of Martin Septim and the banishment of the daedric prince, Mehrunes Dagon, from Tamriel.

“The Blades went into hiding,” Delphine had explained, “we lay in wait. Watching for the arrival of the next who had the blood of dragons running through their veins.”

“So there are more of you?”

Delphine looked wistful, “We... After the Thalmor branded us as traitors we were hunted down. There are only a small few of us left today.”

The Breton woman leaned over the map tacked down to a table in a hidden basement room. Vala was astonished that such a room was built into a tavern, but after hearing Delphine’s story, it all made sense. The room was small, weapons and armor lined the stone walls and the only source of light was a few small candles. The map in question on the table depicted the land of Skyrim, flags of color showed the approximate location of both Imperial and Stormcloak camps. Black circles were also in strange locations on the map, when Vala inquired about it Delphine brushed it off, saying it wasn’t important. The Imperial furrowed her brows, unsure if she could ever take Delphine at her word.

“And you believe the Thalmor have the next dragon blood carrier in their possession?”

“The Dragonborn? Yes, I do,” Delphine stated, “We need to find a way in to the Embassy. It’s where they’d be keeping the Dragonborn.”

“And if they aren’t?”

“Then someone there will know.”

“If they killed your people, what makes you think they’ve kept the Dragonborn alive?”

Delphine’s eyes shot up at Vala’s, “I take it you weren’t being rude when you asked that? The Dragonborn has the power to use the Thu’um, the Shout, without extra training. It would take years for a man to learn the most basic Shout. If they kept the Dragonborn, they could use them to turn the tide of battle. For better or worse.”

Now Vala was sitting at the head of a cart, reins in hand and Cavillo napping peacefully inside. Delphine was excited to hear that Vala had a personal invite to the party at the Thalmor embassy. Vala on the other hand was not as excited to be Cavillo’s personal guest. The man had made it quite apparent that he wasn’t interested in Vala, or rather Aenia as he knew her, for someone who wasn’t supposed to be interested. Yet his eyes lit up when Vala had approached his cart on the outskirts of Whiterun asking if his offer was still available. So far the journey was favorable. They headed northward towards Morthal on the main road. At one point, they heard wolves howling, and at that time Vala held the reins a little tighter.

“Ya doin’ okay there sweetie,” Cavillo’s drawled out words offered some strange comfort.

She scrunched her nose and nodded.

“So Aenia, as long as we are goin’ to the party together we should get ta know each other more,” Cavillo jumped up to the front of the cart and sat down next to Vala. “You wanna start, or should I go first?”

“I won’t participate,” Vala said.

The Imperial man clicked his tongue, “Now that ain’t any fun. Come on Aenia just one tiny question.”

Vala sighed, she knew he wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted. “Fine,” she mumbled, “Just give me a second to think.”

Cavillo gave a small, satisfactory hum at that and waited patiently. “Where are you from?”

“Why Cyrodiil of course. I thought you of all people would know that.”

Vala scoffed.

“Okay my turn,” Cavillo said excitedly. He hummed and tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Who taught you how to fight? Yur’ one of the best I’ve ever seen an’ I’ve seen a lot.”  
Vala eyed the Imperial man, there was no way he was older than her. He looked so young.

“I was self taught,” she replied, which wasn’t technically a lie.

“Huh...” Cavillo was eyeing her now, and Vala wasn’t afraid to eye him right back.

They rode on in silence. Cavillo looked like he wanted to ask more questions. “So,” Vala started, “I guess it’s my turn?”

“Oh yes,” Cavillo said excitedly.

“Well, it’s not anymore,” Vala smirked.

Cavillo looked surprised, “Aenia you minx! I guess it’s my turn now.”

“Only if you don’t call me a minx,” Vala grumbled.

The man thought long and hard about what he was going to ask, when a familiar fortress stood before them. Vala tried hard to look away as she steered the cart on the northern pathway. Her eyes avoiding the blooded ground within and the memories behind the walls. Frigga yelling at her to try harder and Erik avoiding her gaze. Hedrig's arrowhead and Ofric's meals. Asmund sulking off to the side. Cavillo caught onto her uneasiness. “So... what happened at Fort Greymoor,” the Imperial man asked.

“Huh?”

“The Fort,” he motioned behind them, the fort slowly disappearing in the background.

“Oh,” Vala, shook her head, “It’s nothing.”

“A whole lotta trouble for nothin’.”

“Cavillo, I’m just a mercenary, you don’t need to know everything about me,” Vala explained angrily.

“Sorry Aenia, I just thought a game would help lighten the mood.”

It was now late in the afternoon and Vala felt like they made good headway to Morthal. A few skeevers tried to charge them, but Vala easily dispatched them. Off in the distance Vala heard a loud crashing sound. “Damnit,” Cavillo cursed, “I had hoped the dragon’s here hadn’t awoken yet.”

“Now you tell me,” Vala hissed.

She looked around and saw no viable shelter. “Here’s what we’ll do. We stick to hiding underneath these taller trees, search for cover should anything happen,” Vala suggested.  
“I’m not paying for your protection you know,” Cavillo muttered, as he reached back into the cart pulling out bolts and a crossbow.

Vala starred at him astonished, “I thought you didn’t like getting your hands dirty?”

He shrugged, “Desperate times, desperate measures.”

Vala and Cavillo walked side-by-side, the horse and cart following close behind. They hurried under the shade of the great pines. Even as the sky darkened and the clouds turned pink they continued. The sounds of roaring soon faded into the distance, but the sound of her heartbeat drummed in her ears. Snow was beginning to fall around them, sprinkling the green pines with ice.

“I think it’s gone,” Vala muttured, “but we can never be too sure.”

Cavillo bumped her shoulder, “Aenia, look.”

She looked and saw a small city before them. They both sighed in relief at the sight.

The local Inn was cold. They had arrived far late in the night and the proprietor had already put out the flames of the hearth. Thankfully, Jonna, the owner, offered them food and bed. “I don’t get many visitors up this far, so every little bit helps,” she explained.

The two Imperials gratefully took the food from the Redguard woman and took to their rooms when finished. Vala laid down on her bed and stared at the ceiling. She was apprehensive about the Embassy. She had no idea what she would wear, and hoped that no one there would recognize her. It was already a gamble, showing Cavillo her face, though he’s only seen it on a few and rare occasions. This would be more difficult. They were lucky they hadn’t passed any Imperial patrols, and she didn’t know how much longer their luck would keep up.

_”Vala.”_

_She opened her eyes and found herself in a familiar location. The stalagmites that surrounded her confirmed it. It had been months since she was here last. She saw a figure across the cavern. The figure had long, brown hair with a natural curl to it, the figure was petite. Vala stepped forward, “What am I doing here?”  
As she got closer, she could make out the womanly hourglass shape of the figure wearing an all too familiar priestess robe. The figure turned around and Vala gasped. She was face to face with herself. “We’re so close,” the clone said._

_“Close to what?”_

_“You know,” the clone hinted, “the Dragonborn.”_

_Vala’s brow furrowed, “We are days away from that.”_

_“Are we?”_

_Vala sighed, exasperated, “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”_

Vala couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night, so she lay in bed pondering her dream. Was it possible that someone she knows is the Dragonborn? If so, then Delphine’s data was very wrong. Her face scrunched up in disgust, was Cavillo the Dragonborn? The very thought made her retch. She forced herself out of the room and to the stables were the horse and cart were. She opted out of wearing her helmet and armor since no one else was awake. Vala wore a plain green, long sleeved shirt and thick fur pants. Thanks to the added muscle that Frigga helped her build, she didn’t get as cold as easily as she did when she was thinner. The horse seemed to be doing much better now that there wasn’t a dragon threat. The stables themselves were very small and snow covered the roof. It was also out in the open, no doors to keep the horses locked in, so they were tied up by their reins into posts.

She untied Cavillo’s horse, and began to rub the beast down. Warming him up for the road ahead. “Couldn’t sleep either?”

Vala looked up to see Cavillo leaned against a wooden post. He wore a white shirt that wasn’t buttoned at the top, effectively showing his chiseled, hairy chest. The shirt was tucked into brown trousers paired with black boots. If she did not know better, she would have thought him to be a pirate. She quickly turned away hiding her face from the man whose loyalties lay in unknown territory. He walked closer to her, his hand brushed her hair back revealing the jagged scar that ran down her cheek. Vala quickly took a step back, looking away again. Cavillo chuckled under his breath, before leaning forward to whisper in her ear, “The few times I’ve seen you with’ou your helmet. I’ve felt like I’ve seen Aetherius.” He pressed a gentle, yet firm kiss against her temple.

She watched as Cavillo sauntered away back towards the Inn. Despite his sly looks, he was a handsome man. His personality was interesting too, as it often led to heavy tension with Cavillo proclaiming he wasn’t interested. Perhaps he was, Vala reflected, perhaps she was too.

 

“Why’d it hafta be giant spiders!?”

Cavillo yelled from behind the overturned cart. Vala’s claymore came swinging down in between the fangs of a giant frostbite spider splitting it in two. Venom dripped from its twitching fangs. Vala turned around to see the second spider scuttle towards the overturned cart. Its long, fuzzy legs draped around the wooden structure where Cavillo was hurriedly trying to load a bolt into his crossbow.

“Watch out!”

The spider reared up and moved downwards fangs bared. Vala rushed over and Cavillo took a step back. The spider’s fang sliced down the length of Cavillo’s leg, and an ear piercing scream filled the air. He aimed and shot the spider as it released itself from the Imperial’s leg. The bolt planted itself into one of the spider’s many eyes. The monster screeched and scurried away. Vala threw her sword aside and pulled Cavillo into her arms. She looked at the wound, it was deep and a green tint surrounded the hole. Blood poured out each time he moved. “Shit,” Vala cursed putting pressure on the wound. Cavillo groaned in pain. Vala looked around at the overturned cart trying to find anything that would help. The satchel of potions that Cavillo packed were broken or spilling out. Right next to her a backpack of clothes.

Vala quickly ripped some shirts into strips and began to pack and bandage the wound. She took a belt from her armor and wrapped it tightly around his leg. “You know,” he said, trying to laugh, “I usually buy my women a drink first before...Ahhh... Shit that burns.”

“You need to hold still. You’re bleeding a lot still,” Vala said hurriedly.

She looked over at Cavillo, their eyes met. Her dark, coffee brown connected to his light hazel. She saw fear and pain in his eyes. Quickly thinking Vala knocked the cart back up, the horse no longer in sight. She placed Cavillo and a few light, miscellaneous items into the cart. Just some small bags she thought might contain something useful. As well as their weapons. It was heavy, but Vala managed to pull it along. A stray bump every now and again caused Cavillo to call out in pain. She turned back, the venom was slowly spreading to the rest of his leg. They were too far away from Morthal to turn back, having crossed the halfway point hours ago.

The road suddenly was covered in thick slush from the swamp and it became harder for her to pull the cart. Vala let her magicka rush through her hands, perhaps she could try to cast something on the cart to make it lighter. She did it for herself before, but never on an inanimate object. Her spell fizzled on the wood and it backfired on her. Pain shooting up her arms and into her head. She cursed herself for not learning a healing spell. She let go of the cart, dropping it into the mud, jostling the cargo inside. Her spell didn’t work on the object, but it would work on a human.

She heaved Cavillo towards her. “Shit sweetie that’s not gonna work... I’m too...,” he managed out.

A red-golden aura surrounded his body as she lifted him with ease. She wouldn’t have long before her magicka would run out. She took off running down the swampy trail, Cavillo cursing at her the whole way. Blood soaked into the cloth bandages began spilling out and down Vala’s side. She looked down to see the venom outlining the Imperial man’s veins. It looked like spider webs were forming on his skin. He was barely conscious now, muttering random words and phrases under his breath. Her legs and lungs began to throb as her stamina ran out, and on top of that Cavillo was going back to his regular weight. Vala’s heart pounded as she saw a bridge in the distance, a couple of figures were crossing towards them.

“Hey!”

Vala had shouted with all her might, but it didn’t seem like they heard her. “Over here,” she tried again, but she was weakened. She could only take a few steps more before falling to her knees, taking Cavillo with her. He didn’t protest as he hit the ground, he was barely breathing now, as the venom webbed its way up his face. She removed her helmet and shouted with one final breath.


	10. Chapter 10

_“Father, where do we go when we die?”_

_“Why, Aetherius of course!”_

_“What does it look like?”_

_Father Mark smiled down at the young lass, “Well, it’s different for everybody. I will go to The Far Shore and you will go to... Oh dear me where is is that Imperials go? I believe they just call it ‘Heaven’.”_

Vala’s head hurt. Her legs hurt, her arms hurt and oddly enough her eyes hurt. She groaned as she opened them. Slowly blinking away the blurriness. She looked to her left, a small candle was burning, its wax was almost gone. It sat atop a nightstand next to the bed. Vala closed her eyes. She felt parched and her throat hurt. Someone walked into the room, but Vala was too tired to try to look to see who. She hissed when she felt a cold, wet rag pat her forehead. “Shh... There, there,” a gentle, soothing voice silenced her, “you really wore yourself out. Rest. You’ve earned it.”

She tried to speak, but the woman shushed her again. The woman continued to pat down her face with the water and cloth. This continued for a few minutes longer. “Okay, I’m going to have to sit you up so I can clean the rest of you.”

The woman began to help Vala sit up in the bed, propped against the headboard. She felt the cool cloth hit her chest and she shivered. “Sorry dear, this will only be a few minutes longer.”

Vala slowly opened her eyes, and watched as the woman carefully cleaned her, removing Vala’s clothes in the process. Avoiding any areas that would be too uncomfortable to clean without consent. She watched as the blood on her side was scrubbed away. There was a lot of blood, but no wound. So how had she been bleeding? Then it hit her and she panicked, trying to move out of the bed. “Where is Cavillo? Where is he,” she weakly managed.

The old woman overpowered Vala and pushed her back down into the bed. “He’s not here dear.”

Pain struck Vala’s heart and tears welled in her eyes. “He’s dead?”

The woman chuckled, angering and confusing Vala all the same. “Poor choice of words, he’s at the apothecary in Solitude. We had some potions to help hold him over. He had a nasty bite and is getting treated for it. Had you not carried him here, he would be dead.”

Vala breathed out a sigh of relief. It was good news, but the tears still fell from her face. The woman helped Vala into some clean clothes and gave her a mug of water. “Here, this should help with the exhaustion.”

The water burned as it traveled down her throat, but it eased her thirst. “I’ll leave a pitcher here just in case you need more.”

“Where am I,” Vala asked, ignoring the stinging sensation in her throat.

“You’re still in Dragon Bridge dear. Now, no more questions. Just rest for now, I’ll bring you something to eat when you’re ready.”

The woman left the room and gently closed the door behind her. Vala drank more water, but nothing was helping the pain in her throat. She eventually laid to rest. She was glad to hear that Cavillo was okay, and considered that she needed to recover as soon as possible to get to Solitude as quickly as possible. She also considered the extent of their relationship.

Vala had been seated in the corner of The Bee and Barb. She had just finished an escorting someone to Riften and needed to relax for a little bit. The Innkeeper, a pale she-Argonian, had offered her a drink that would ‘remind her of home’. A frothing mug of ‘White-Gold Tower’ was placed before her. Vala took a sip and she was immediately taken back to her home in Cyrodiil. The gold grains of wheat that paled in comparison to the glorious fields of lavender. She didn’t realize how much she missed her homeland. The Argonian’s lips cured, “I’m glad to see you like it.”

“Like, is not the word that should be used to describe this. I love it. Thank you.”

“Sentimental over beer,” a sly voice crooned behind her, and Vala could see the she-Argonian frown.

“What do you want Cavillo,” the Argonian hissed at the man who sat himself next to Vala.

“Mead please, dear Keerava.”

Keerava left and the man turned to Vala, “I’ve never seen you here before. Just move in?”

“Something like that,” she took another sip of the drink.

“Name’s Cavillo, nice ta’ met’cha...,” he drawled out his words, waiting patiently for a reply.

Vala ignored the Imperial man, he’d have to leave sooner or later. The man gave a coy frown, “Usually people tell me their names.”

Vala clicked her tongue, “Listen kid, I don’t do names.”

Keerava came back and set the mead down in front of the man, “Enjoy.”

“Oh I will.”

The man turned back to Vala. “How long are you here for?”

“Until my boss is done here and needs and escort back.”

“A mercenary are we? Well, if you’re interested, I have a few things that I need some help with...”

Vala slammed down the empty mug, and began going towards the room she rented for the night, “Then find me in Whiterun, but until then have a wonderful evening.”

“Same to you... Sorry I didn’t quite catch your name.”

Vala peered over her shoulder, “I didn’t throw it.”

She heard the man chuckle as she walked away. Vala thought she’d never see him again, and was content knowing that. When she arrived back in Whiterun, a courier approached her with a letter and a small bag. The letter described the location of the Silent Moon bandits who had specially forged weapons that were extremely deadly. They had gotten a little too brave and began harassing local farmers. The small bag contained coin and more was promised upon the successful completion of the task. No numerical amount was ever given, but Vala decided to take up the quest anyways.

The alteration spell had taken forever for her to perfect, and now was as good as anytime to see in action. Silent Moon Bandits rushed towards her, they had run out of arrows long ago. Their weapons glowed a red-orange color. Vala stabbed her claymore into the ground, both arms extended forward. The bandits mocked her for her stupidity, but soon they were surrounded by a purple mist. Fear and panic swept through the crowd as one by one they fell to the ground exhausted. A bandit had made it to Vala’s feet before he tired. The Imperial woman re-armed herself and quickly dispatched of the man before her. His head rolled on the ground and his body collapsed, blood spraying. So it went like that. Decapitations, eviscerations and all manner of gore. She had to make their deaths quick, otherwise she’s have nightmares about it for a long time.

Eventually she reached the chief who was just beginning to get his strength back. As he stood, Vala thrust her blade through his gut until he was skewered onto the claymore. He fell back, and she stood upon his body to gain leverage in pulling the sword out of him. She heard clapping and turned around to see that Imperial man Cavillo approach her. “Well done, Mercenary of Whiterun. You know they all call ya that ‘cause you’ve never told a soul your real name.”

Vala readied herself and the man threw up his hands in submission, “Now, now. Ya wouldn’t wanna kill the man payin’ ya, would ya?”

“You hired me?”

“Yes, I just needed to be sure that the rumors were true. I’m just as shocked to see that you’re the same woman from the bar.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Vala spat.

The man put his hand up to his chin, “How curious. I had you pegged for a Nord, but that speech... Imperial, ya?”

Vala’s eyes narrowed, the less people knew about her the better. It was unfortunate that she accumulated such a reputation. She’d have to go under for a while. “What does it matter to you?”

“Oh it don’t. I can’t help but be a bit curious,” he drawled, “Now I’m sure you’re ready for your payment.”

The man untied a satchel on his waist and tossed it to Vala. She opened the purse and found a pile of septims inside. It would be enough for the next two weeks. “More where that came from,” Cavillo held his head up, “That is, if yur’ interested.”  
Vala nodded and the man turned to leave. “Oh,” he suddenly exclaimed turning around, “I’m gonna hafta’ call you somethin’. What would you prefer, mercenary?”

She closed her eyes and thought about it for a bit. When she finally had an answer she opened them, “Aenia.”

“Well Aenia,” the man said walking away, calling over his shoulder so she could hear, “I hope ta see you again very soon.”

Vala’s memory was interrupted when someone knocked at her door. “Come in,” she called out.

The older woman from before entered, carrying a bowl of venison stew. “Careful,” she warned, “it’s still hot.” 

Vala nodded in thanks and began eating. The warm food soothed her throat where the water had failed. The stew consisted of fresh venison, potatoes and carrots with a few added herbs for flavor. She had grown to love this dish. It was the first dish Ofric taught her how to make. Her heart hurt again. Although it was months after the dragon attack on Helgen she still ached for the people who she had lost. She stayed awake at night crying. She never knew she could miss anyone so fiercely. For the most part, she missed out on all the things she should have said. Every once in a while, she would smell tobacco smoke and hope that when she turned her head, she’d see Erik with his pipe, laughing with Haedrig or Frigga over some small matter. But when she looked, he was never there. It never got any easier, it just became more bearable as time went on. She had never realized the part Cavillo played in her life until he was dying in her arms. Sure he tagged along to each location she was hired for, but when it came to fighting he let her do all the work. He filled some empty longing that had torn open her soul.

The Imperial woman stared into the empty bowl before her thinking about how she had fallen for the Imperial man. She donned her armor. The blood on the side had dried and darkened to a rust color. The old woman walked back into the room and hurriedly caught Vala before she fell to the ground. “What are you doing,” the woman asked worried.

“I need to get to Solitude,” Vala insisted, trying to stand on her own again.

“You are exhausted and need to rest, young lady!”

The woman’s patience seemed to have run thin. Vala could see each individual crease mark on the older woman’s forehead as she scowled. “You won’t get to see your lover if you keep acting like that!”

Vala felt blood rush to her face as she sat back down on the bed, armor clanking together as she did so.

It felt like nighttime drug on for forever. She promised the old Breton that she wouldn’t leave until morning. Vala could feel herself slowly coming back to full strength. The moment the first rooster crowed, she was out of bed and into her armor. She had no balance problems, and was able to walk without tiring. The journey would be long, but Vala needed to ensure that Cavillo was alive.

She paid her fees to the barkeep, even though she insisted that it wasn’t necessary, and hurried down the path that pointed her way to Solitude. A few Imperial guards dotted the roads, but they all minded their own business. As she travelled she noticed the roads were clear of any large predators, which seemed suspicious for a land that was usually dotted with bears and cougars.

Vala grew hesitant with each step and listened carefully for anything out of the unusual. She heard the grand pines swaying and the birds that called the branches their home. A loud buzzing sound alerted her that a beehive was nearby. Nothing seemed unordinary. She shrugged it off assuming she was just wary from the spider attack a few days prior. A twig snapped and Vala pivoted on her heels. She drew her blade and pointed it at the creature that tried to sneak up behind her. The point of the blade lay on the nose of a white rabbit. The startled animal quivered where it stood, too scared to move. Its nose twitched, tiny whiskers moving. Vala withdrew her sword and watched as the fluffy rabbit scampered away.

The rest of the journey to Solitude went without further distraction. The city loomed on the horizon obscured by trees and tall walls. Vala heard gulls and a shrill bell ring in the distance. Her heart pounded in her ears. She was anxious about what state she would find Cavillo in. She hoped he was still breathing, she had already lost too much. A guard greeted her at the main gates. The thick oak loomed over her. 

“Hail Imperial. Long journey?”

Vala smirked under her helmet, “You could say that. Not many bears up here.”

“Aye, enough patrols on these roads. Enjoy your visit to Solitude.”

The great doors opened and Vala was greeted with a large mob within. Their attention was focused on something else. 

“Traitor!”

“Get on with it!”

Vala looked to where everyone else was facing. An executioner's block was set up and next to it a prisoner. The prisoner was a Nord man wearing nothing but rags. Bruises and fresh cuts covered his body, but he still stood proudly. An executioner walked up with what seemed to be an Imperial Captain. Vala wasn’t sure of the rank. At the back of the crowd stood a little girl holding tightly onto a man, crying. The onlookers in the crowd looked to the girl with daggered sympathy. “Please, he didn’t do anything,” the girl sobbed.

A woman behind the girl scowled, “She needs to know the truth. Her uncle betrayed his High King. He is nothing but scum.”

The girl held onto the man tighter and cried into arms as he picked her up. The man scowled back at the woman before carrying the girl away from the crowd. “There was no murder,” the man on the block called out, “Ulfric challenged Torygg and won in fair combat. By our Nordic laws he was free to leave without-” 

The man was silenced by the ‘booing’ of the crowd. Vala watched as the woman in the back called for the man’s beheading. The axe came down on the man’s neck. Cheers erupted from the crowd. The Imperial Captain looked down solemnly at the corpse and shook his head. If Vala didn’t know any better, she’d say he was in pain.   
Vala looked around the city as the crowd dispersed. She looked intently at the different signs posted over the small buildings. “Looking for anything traveler?”

She was about to answer when she found herself face to face with beady gold eyes and a yellow face. Vala had to swallow hard before she could answer, “Uh... yeah. I’m looking for... the apothecary? I have a friend who’s being treated.”

“Oh,” the Altmer woman smiled gently, “Angeline is taking care of your Imperial. I can walk you to her shop if you’d like?”

“No thanks, could you just point me in the right direction?”

Vala stood in front of the apothecary. Her hand sat passive on the doorknob as her heart thrummed in her chest. The doorknob felt difficult to turn, like it was rusted and stuck in the doorframe. The Altmer woman's words struck deep inside her. Had she really called Cavillo _her_ Imperial?

She walked into the apothecary which was well lit with windows and candles. An old Breton woman stood behind the counter. She was busy cleaning a small bowl and a small stick. Vala recognized it to be a mortar and pestle. The woman looked up and smiled, “What can I help you with?”

“I'm looking for my friend. I was told he’d be here,” Vala replied, crossing the threshold. 

“He's here around back. But let me check to see if he's ready for visitors.”

The old Breton excused herself and entered a room behind her obscured by a curtain. Vala stood in the main room, awkwardly and impatiently waiting. She paced the length of the floor waiting for the woman to return. It felt like eons before the Breton returned. She had only barely gotten out that he was conscious, when Vala rushed past her to the room, apologizing briefly for her actions.

Cavillo was in a bed on the opposite end of the room. The room itself was dark and dusty with a few small candles. He was propped up against the headrest. His eyes were tired and sly at the same time. Vala had no idea how it was possible, but the way they shimmered in the low light filled her with hope.

“Aenia,” his lips curled in a small, tired smile, “I thought I’d died and gone to Aetherius.”

Vala practically charged across the room and discarded of her helmet, revealing her scarred and rough face. Before Cavillo could say another word her lips crashed against his own. He hummed in surprise at her warmth. She felt him slowly ease into the kiss which helped her relax as well. She hadn't planned on the action, but was glad to see -or rather feel- its reciprocation. His lips were thin and rough in comparison to her own. 

Cavillo reached up and brushed brushed a hand down the side of her face. His thumb danced gently over her scar that she tried so hard to hide. When their lips finally parted, he was the first to speak. “Maybe I am in Aetherius,” he murmured gently.

Values face reddened and she quickly began to re-equip her helmet. Cavillo’s eyes widened, “No, no I'm sorry. Please don't hide.”

He moved to her wrists trying to slow her down. She looked at him from the corner of her eyes as she slowly lowered the helmet. “I'm sorry,” she spoke up, “I shouldn't have rushed on you.”

Cavillo laid back down, “It's okay Aenia. I rather enjoyed it.”

“Even though you're ‘uninterested’?”

Cavillo chuckled and Vala smiled.

“Just in denial. I've liked ya’ fora long time,” he drawled, closing his eyes to rest, “And I've always hoped you've felt the same.”

Vala left the room to let him rest. The old Breton woman nodded as she walked by. “When will he be able to walk,” she asked the woman.

“In a few days. There's an Inn down the street you can stay at in the meantime.”

Vala left the apothecary and felt her coinpurse. It was empty save for two septims. She groaned, most of the money was probably still on the cart outside Dragon Bridge or dumped off the side of the road somewhere. She'd have to be creative in finding sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

Cavillo threw a fit the moment he had heard Vala slept outside.

“It’s not right,” he seethed, “Yu’r not some lost dog.”

Vala sat in the corner of the small room cleaning her armor. It had rained in the middle of the night leaving her cold, wet and muddy. She was able to brush it off as she was now used to Skyrim’s ever changing weather. Camping was also something she was quite used to as well, and she had a preference for the southern tundra and forest.

“I only had had a few septims on me. Not enough for a room anywhere,” Vala replied, “I think the rest of the coin is on the cart or on the side of the road.”

“Now that just won't do, will it?”

Vala looked over where Cavillo was sitting on the edge of the bed. Angeline, the apothecary, had made a potion that brought energy and life back to him. He insisted that she do it, even though she told him rest would be better, and cheaper, than a potion. His usually well kept hair was disheveled as well as his clothes, which were slowly starting to smell. Vala didn't have any room to complain as she was sure she was in the same state. The smell and dirt didn't bother Vala anymore. When she first started living in Skyrim with the bandits, she tried her best to keep up with cleanliness standards she had from back home. No matter how hard she scrubbed she always seemed to perpetually be covered in dirt.

“I can go back,” Vala offered, “We can't do much with only three septims.”

She met his gentle, hazel eyes with her own. He could see her face clearly as she was not wearing her helmet. She watched as his gaze ran over her sturdy form. She shifted in her chair causing her muscled form to ripple. Cavillo looked away quickly, but Vala had caught on.

“You like what you see Cavillo,” she smirked knowingly. 

“Can't help but be attracted to a lovely, strong woman.”

He got up from the bed and crossed over to where she was sitting. Vala only had moments to react when his lips suddenly were pressed against her own. She hummed appreciatively against his mouth. He pulled back, slyness taking over his eyes. “We really need fresh clothes, and if you’re goin’ all the way out there, then I’m comin’ with ya.”

Vala frowned, “You’re in no shape to be walking around, Cavillo.”

“Well I can’t have ya goin’ out there by yourself, Aenia.”

“Then I’m afraid we are at an impasse.”

The Imperial man scoffed, “Indeed we are. For now...”

He began walking towards the curtained door frame. “Hey,” Vala called out, “Where do you think you’re going?”

Cavillo didn’t say anything as he stepped out of the room. Vala quickly strapped her armor back on her body, grabbed her sword and followed him outside into Solitude. It was midday and the city was bustling as normal. As if a man wasn’t executed in public just the other day. She noticed the little girl from that day crying away from some other children who were sneering in her direction. Vala frowned. Her heart ached for the poor girl. She continued to follow Cavillo around the corner towards the front city gates. Vala caught onto what he was doing and hurried in front of him to cut him off. He let out a small huff of annoyance. 

“I can do this just fine on my own Cavillo,” Vala said angrily, “I’ve done it many times before. Do you not trust me?”

Cavillo frowned, “Ya misunderstand my actions, Aenia. I am merely escorting you ta’ the city gates to wish you well on your journey. You’ll wanna hurry, the party is in two days’ time.”

Vala nodded, “I understand. I’ll bring back as much as I can.”

She turned to leave but looked back when Cavillo called to her. “Aenia, please come back in one piece.”

The trip to Dragon Bridge was quick since it was downhill from Solitude. The only thing that seemed to slow her down was the muddy trail from the rain the previous night. She passed quite a few Imperial patrols on her way, and as such was met with little resistance. At one point a skeever charged towards her, but she was able to easily dispatch of it with her claymore. At that moment a Nord man walked by her, “A bit overkill, don’t you think?”

“No such thing,” Vala muttered as she cleaned and sheathed her claymore.  
Dragon Bridge was peaceful as the few citizens worked. A dog barked in the distance and a few chickens ambled about. A guard recognized her and offered assistance in her journey, but Vala turned down his offer telling him she had no gold to spare. The man was young, and hardly fit to be called a man at all. “It is my duty to protect and help the people, at least let me help you to your cart. Free of charge.”  
Vala told him no once more and began walking away.

“Oh come on,” the young man complained, “there’s nothing to do here. It’s not like the city will burn down while I’m gone.”

Vala rolled her eyes, “Fine.”

The young man practically squealed with delight. “First day on the job,” Vala asked him.

“Yeah, I just finished some training in Markarth and they sent me up here. Decided a nice quiet town would be a good place to start.”

Vala felt the blood rush from her face. Did this person know about her? Did he know her father?

“Markarth huh? Isn’t that that one city off to the west? Mara worshippers or something,” Vala fished for information.

“I think it’s Dibella actually, but yeah it’s the city to the far west. You know it’s all Dwemer ruins there. Pretty... fascinating,” the young man began laughing, “I forgot to introduce myself. Name’s Bari.”

“That’s an interesting name Bari, I’m Aenia, Mercenary of Whiterun.”

“Yeah, my full name is Barius Stend. But everyone calls me Bari,” his eyes went downcast and Vala’s heart thumped in anxiety.

She eyeballed the kid. He was short with bushy eyebrows. There were also other strikingly similar resemblances to Captain Barius on this kid. Like his nose and eyes. Those same eyes she saw when Captain Barius lay beat on the ground outside of Inkwell. Vala swallowed trying not to panik. “Barius is a strong name,” Vala said in a hushed tone.

“Yeah, it suited my father well, but I don’t seem to fit it, ya’ know? It’s a name that has a lot of living up to do. He was one of the best Captains over there.”  
Vala gave the kid a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Captain Barius didn’t deserve the fate that he had. They finally found the cart. Its wheels had sunk deep into the mud, and it took a lot of time and effort into pulling it out. Bari continued talking about his training, and Vala even offered tips on how to better himself. It took awhile but they were able to get the cart rolling again. Vala looked through the bags she had thrown on the back of the cart in hurry a few days prior. One of the satchels contained a fair amount of coin, another one had some bandages that were no longer useable due to the water. She also found a few loose pieces of clothing, some of which looked like they were part of a formal ensemble. She also found a few of her belongings. A nice tunic that was part of her own formal attire for the party. Now, she didn’t know if she even wanted to attend the party. Cavillo’s crossbow and a few of his bolts were also junked into the cart and Vala knew how important that that would be to bring back.

“Is this all?”

“No Bari, there’s more but it’s all the way towards Morthal. I told you you only needed to come this far. Besides, I think this is all we’ll need,” Vala explained to the young soldier.

Vala picked up the front of the cart where a horse would have been tied to, and began pulling it along. “Here, let me help,” Bari offered stepping around the back of the cart and began pushing. “Hold on, what’s this?”

He pulled from the ground a small satchel that Vala didn’t recognize. He handed the possession over to the mercenary and she quickly opened it. She let the contents of the pouch fall into her open palm. A large ring with an intricate design laced in gold and wax fell out. The symbol engraved in the largest part of the ring showed a upwards sword and on either side of the sword a large disc that resembled the discs that scales had. Bari’s eyes widened, “Hey, I recognize this ring!”

“You do,” Vala asked bewildered, “what is it?”

“It’s one of those rings that important people seal their letters with in wax. The scales on either side of the upward sword symbolises ‘taking up arms for balance’. And the intricacy of the ring means it’s from either a very high ranking officer or nobility.”

Bari took the ring from Vala’s hands and looked at the inside. “Here it is,” he exclaimed, “see the letters in here? That’s code for Imperial rank, and if I remember correctly, this means ‘General’. See everything is written in code so the enemy doesn't know if they capture someone, how important they are.”

Confusion flooded Vala. Was Cavillo an Imperial General? “D-do you know what family based on the insignia,” she hesitantly asked, not wanting to know the real answer.

“Yeah I do. Everyone back in Markarth does. My father actually served under this general before he decided to become a spy for the Imperials. His name was General Amalius Volliac.”

Vala’s face paled out, she was lucky her helmet covered most of her face. Otherwise Bari would be able to tell what was wrong. “Bari,” Vala said, trying to hide the warble in her voice, “Why did you tell me all of that? Aren’t you worried of what I could do with that information?”

He shrugged, “Because some of the Imperials at the outpost back at Dragon Bridge recognized the general. You _are_ an ally, right?”

Vala hesitated, “Uh... yeah. I am. I’m sorry Bari it’s just I had no idea. I’m a mercenary so we usually don’t talk about these things.”

“Guess it’s my turn to apologize, I’ve always had issues with keeping information to myself. Probably another reason why they sent me to this backwater city. Hey, if General Amalius is here, does that mean you’re going to the party?”

Vala pocketed the ring and began pulling the cart with Bari pushing it. She didn’t realise they had made it back to Dragon Bridge or that Bari was continuing to speak to her. Her head hurt from all the ideas swimming inside of it. If Cavillo was indeed the Dragonborn and also an Imperial General, then that would mean the information Delphine got was false. She could very well be walking into a trap set up by the Thalmor themselves, made to drag the last of the Blades out of hiding. Maybe nobody survived the Helgen attack, and if they did, they were probably all civilians. Maybe it’s Erik or Asmund or even Frigga trapped in the Embassy. And on top of that, she still needed to find the Dragonborn and bring them to that place Shezarr spoke of. Could she even trust Cavillo if she did try to take him to that place? Then it really hit her.

 _Was General Amalius her betrothed?_ Had she tried to dodge her fate and instead found a longer way around to the inevitable? To his embrace and to that coy smile she had fallen helplessly for? Suddenly the words he spoke to her took on whole new meanings. “ _I've liked ya’ fora long time_ ”? What the hell did that mean now? 

Bari stood in front of her, “Guess you’ll finish going back up to Solitude now, huh?”

Vala shook herself out of her stupor, “Oh, yeah sorry. Just a lot on the mind.”  
He bid her farewell and luck on her journey as Vala left the small town behind. As she walked away, Bari walked silently towards the marshlands. There in front of him lay a large frostbite spider with an arrow pointed out of his skull. As he bent to comfort the creature, his skin peeled and morphed. Rough calloused hands became long and slender. The heavy armor on his body melted into cloth that surrounded a buxom chest. Though the chest looked human, the legs and glutes changed into that of a spider. The woman smiled down at her pet, “Don’t worry baby, mommy took care of it.”

 

Vala stood in front of the gates to Solitude. Her head and eyes felt heavy since she walked all night, and even when she reached the city all she could do was pace back and forth and wonder if he had actually known the whole time. She scolded herself, there was no way to know, he had never seen her before all of this. If she asked him, would he lock her up? Is that why he wanted to take her to the party? So she couldn’t escape? Either way she had a deal with Delphine, and a quest to help save the world.

She finally found her courage and walked through the gates, heading straight to the apothecary. Angeline had just unlocked the doors when Vala pulled up with the cart. “He’s still sleeping dear, but you can go see him,” the Breton informed her.  
Vala walked into the curtained room with a few of his possessions. She set them down as quickly and as quietly as she could before trying to tiptoe out of the room. “Yur not as quiet as ya think ya are, sweetheart.”

A chill ran up Vala’s spine as she turned to see Cavillo sit up in bed. “Sorry, I just wanted to let you sleep,” she said.

“Well ya did a mighty terrible job at it,” Cavillo chuckled. “Please tell me you found fresh clothes.”

Vala went to tell him what happened at the cart. How all the clothes were dirty and wet. How she found his crossbow and the gold, but nothing came out. He cocked his head, his eyes and pout reminded her of a lost dog.

“Sorry,” she apologized shaking her head, “It’s just been one of those days I guess.”

Cavillo relaxed at her answer, and listened intently as she told him what happened. She omitted the part about Bari and the signet ring, even though it burned her stomach telling her half-truth. Vala suddenly yawned and Cavillo chuckled, “Sounds like ya had a busy day. Why don't ya rest with me fora few hours?”

Vala cringed at the thought, and shuffled her feet nervously. “Shit I'm sorry sweetheart,” Cavillo quickly apologized, “I shouldn't rush you. After all this relationship only just started.”

Vala blushed, “Relationship?”

His eyes widened in surprise, “Damn, I'm just makin’ lots of assumptions today, aren't I?”

All things considering, under normal circumstances Vala wouldn't have minded to be courted by Cavillo. But now with his obvious allegiance to the Imperial Army, Vala found it hard to picture her with him. “Let's do this,” Cavillo suddenly suggested, “We don't have any good clothes for the party. I know some really fashionable tailors here in town.”

Vala breathed a sigh of relief, “Sounds good to me.”

 

“Well I think blue would look _much_ better on her!”

Vala stood silently as two Altmer women bickered around her. Cavillo insisted they were the best at their jobs. At the moment they only seemed to be best at arguing. “But green is the seasonal color! And the emerald color we have will be perfect for bringing out the blue in her eyes and the blush of her cheeks.”

At one point the sisters had needles pointed and the each other. “What if the color was plain,” Vala suggested. She could have kept her mouth shut as both sisters jumped on the opportunity to mock her.

“Hush now and let the professionals work,” Endarie chided.

“As if you have any room to talk Imperial,” Endari’s sister, Taarie, exclaimed, “you want to look at least halfway decent at the party right?”

“Shame she has all these scars, they cover up an otherwise pretty face.”

Vala huffed under her breath and let the sisters work. Her legs grew tired as the day dragged on. The party was tonight and she needed a plan of action. Delphine said she had a man on the inside she could give her gear to and he could sneak it in. She was told to meet him at the Winking Skeever a few hours before the party, but at the rate things were going now, she would have to go weaponless. 

“Nothing seems to be working,” Taarie exclaimed, rubbing the bridge of her nose in annoyance. 

“Well,” Endari whispered, “There is _one_ dress that might work.”

“You don't mean...?”

Endari nodded fervently. The two women disappeared around the corner and came back holding a dark-violet dress embroidered with gold patterns. Vala put it on. The front was was a low swoop that showed some of her cleavage. The sleeves were long and made of lace and the dress was tight in the middle and then slowly puffed out and fell around her ankles. With a few, quick alterations the dress fit to her form perfectly. “It’s beautiful,” Vala murmured. 

“Indeed it is,” Taarie agreed.

“Do you think it might be a little much for the party?”

Endarie scoffed, “The party is thrown by High Elves, trust me, you'll fit right in.”  
Vala paid for the dress and left. The two women offered to do hold onto the dress for her. Taarie even offered to help the Imperial with her hair and makeup before the party. Vala nodded gratefully and left to go to the tavern she needed to meet Delphine’s source at. She walked into the busy tavern and sat at the far corner. A woman walked over and asked if she wanted anything, to which Vala ordered a sweet roll and ale. The woman sauntered away, and Vala waited patiently for the source to arrive.

She had been waiting there for well over an hour before a Bosmer man walked in. He was short and scrawny with hair that shot up making him seem taller than he really was. He grabbed a mug of something from the barkeep and strolled over to where Vala was sitting. “May I sit here?”

Vala noticed his beady eyes and pointed nose that accentuated his face. She shook her head, “Sorry, I’m waiting for someone else.”

The man sat down anyways, “You here for the party?”

Vala squinted at the man, “And if I am?”

“Then it seems we have something in common.”

Now she understood what he was saying, “Ah, it seems we have a mutual friend.”

The Bosmer took a swig of his drink, “Indeed we do.”

“So you’re supposed to smuggle whatever I need inside?”

“Of course, granted I probably can’t smuggle in your heavy armor and blade, but anything that I can easily conceal will be waiting for you.”

“Perfect.”

The party was now an hour away from starting and Vala found herself stuck between the two bickering sisters again. She had the violet and gold dress on and sat still waiting of Endarie to finish her hair, and for Taarie to finish the makeup. “Your friend wasn’t so happy when we changed the color scheme of his entire outfit,” Endarie chuckled, “He is quite the interesting fellow.”

Vala chuckled, “Sounds like Cavillo.”

Taarie murmured, “So that’s what he’s calling himself these days.”

“Hush Taarie, focus on your work.”

A brush covered Vala’s cheeks before she could ask anyone for confirmation. She really liked the man, but fear and doubt plagued her like a skeever infestation. “There,” Taarie said a few minutes later, “How are you doing sister?”

“Just one more curl.”

The sisters had devised a method for curling hair, which Vala thought was ingenious. They made a rode out of porcelain and used concentrated fire spells to heat the glass and curl hair. Vala had complimented them on their work, to which the sisters gushed and thanked her, but still pleaded for more affirmations. They finished their work and showed Vala to the mirror so she could see what they had done. Endarie pulled most of Vala’s brunette hair up into a bun, but left a few curled wisps of hair in the front dangling on either side of her face. The bun was held together with a pair of sticks that tapered on one end. One of the sticks was adorned with a nightshade flower. Taarie had chosen a dark shade of lipstick and a dusty pink color for her blush. Her dark brown eyes were accentuated with a smokey purple and gold eyeliner. Vala looked like royalty, and, to an extent, she was. She was technically a noble after all.

“You look lovely darling,” Taarie said.

Vala looked at the women through the mirror, “Thank you both so much.”

The women nodded their heads fervently, and they took their leave. The front door suddenly opened and a figure walked into the room, “Is Aenia here?”

Vala could see him clearly through the mirror. His hair was slicked back and he had trimmed his beard and mustache. He wore an ivory shirt that was tucked into the band of his trousers that hugged his leg mid-calf, ivory socks and black dress shoes. Over the top of his shirt we wore a dark coat with large, gold buttons and a large, dark tie with thin, gold patterning around his neck that tucked into where his coat was buttoned. 

“Aenia? Wh-where did you get that dress?”

Vala turned around to face Cavillo who looked awestruck. “I...Is that really you?”

“Yes it is,” Vala blushed, “You look quite handsome yourself.”

Cavillo coughed and looked away trying to hide the red growing on his own cheeks. “Thank you Aenia, it means a lot ta hear that.”

Vala watched as he gathered himself and crossed the threshold to her. If he was a General, then it was very interesting to see him lose composure, as Generals were trained to maintain composure under all pressure. He reached down for her hand and brought it up to his lips kissing the back gently.

“We should get going soon,” Vala whispered.

Cavillo’s lips lingered for a while longer, “Must we?”

Vala pulled her hand back, “We must.”

He gave a gentle smile, “May I kiss you?”

She could only nod and lean forward closing her eyes as he did the same. Her heart hammered in her head as their lips made contact. She thought she would be more scared, but something in the back of her mind kept her calm. That is, until Taarie shrieked from across the room, “Stop smearing her lipstick!”

The Altmer woman rushed across the room to help Vala reapply what little had been smeared. She glared at Cavillo before handing Vala a small container of the lipstick as a ‘just in case’ measure. The implication of her actions caused both Imperials to blush. The two of them left the store, arms locked together and walked to the outside of the city where a carriage was waiting for them. “The Embassy has provided a ride up, as the journey is long. I have the invitation right here, they should let us on,” Cavillo explained.

He presented the paperwork to the Thalmor guard who eyed him suspiciously, “Who’s the girl?”

“She’s my date. I’m sure the Ambassador won’t mind,” Cavillo puffed out his chest, daring the guard to act.

“Do you have any further proof of who this invite says you are?”

Cavillo palmed his pockets looking for something. Vala stepped forward, “Is everything alright?”

“Obviously not,” the Thalmor grunted, handing the invite back to Cavillo.  
Vala reached forward instead making sure her fingers brushed against the guards, “Well that’s too bad. I don’t see what the problem is. The Ambassador might get upset that we weren’t in attendance. And if we aren’t who we say we are, then they have every right to kick us out.”

“I suppose,” the guards face suddenly lightened.

“So then you should just let us on, and if we aren’t supposed to be there they can just send us off. No harm, no foul,” Vala insisted.

The guard grunted, “Very well then, but I’ll be watching you.”

The guard turned to open the carriage and Vala tried to quickly look at who the invite was addressed to but Cavillo was faster and he snagged the paper and pocketed it.

“Everything alright Cavillo?”

“Dandy.”

The trip up to the Embassy was a long, uphill climb. When they reached the top Cavillo helped Vala out of the carriage and escorted her inside. Many people were within the main hall of the building. Food was laid out on heaping plates and wine glasses sat waiting. Cavillo nodded to the few people who approached him. Vala took note that no one here called him General Amalius Volliac, and she wished that that was a good sign. That perhaps the young guard was just messing with her.  
The two of them walked further into the abod, and Vala noticed everyone was slowing turning to stare at her and Cavillo. A few women whispered to each other motioning towards the pair. Vala grew more nervous from the attention she was getting. She felt exposed and subconsciously moved closer to Cavillo. He detected her unease and wrapped an arm around her shoulder pulling her closer. Her face flared up bright and red. She looked up at Cavillo who was smiling kindly down at her. An Altmer woman approached them. “Ah, good evenin’ Ambassador,” Cavillo greeted her.

The woman had dark cheeks and eyes due to the makeup she was wearing. Her hair was long and gold like her skin, and she had a very prominent widow's peak. She wore a long dark robe trimmed with gold. She smirked, “I see you're enjoying yourself already Cavillo.”

“Your parties have always been entertainin’, Elenwen.”

“And who is this?”

Cavillo pulled Vala closer to him, “This is Aenia. I'm a bit sweet on her.”

Elenwen eyed Vala, “She doesn't seem to be sweet on you.”

He frowned as Elenwen sauntered away to talk to other guests. “I'm sorry about that, Aenia,” he guided her towards a table with silver goblets on it.

“Please don't apologize,” Vala told him.

She grabbed herself herself a goblet just as Cavillo reached out to grab two. He chuckled, “Sorry darlin’, sometimes I forget you're very... self-sufficient.”

“Seems like there's a lot you don't know about me,” Vala took a sip of the wine, and scrunched her face up.

“Not a fan?”

“I guess I'm more of a mead girl.”

“That's one more thing I know about you,” he slyly looked over at her.

“And so according to the rules of the game, I get to the ask you a question.”

“Oh, so now you want to play?”

“What's your favorite color,” Vala asked, as the pair walked towards the outskirts of the main room.

“Grey. Yours?”

“Not even going to think about it,” she shuddered as she took another sip of the wine, “Mine would have to be a dark shade of blue.”

He looked surprised, “I would have guessed red or yellow.”

“Now why's that?”

“Seems more like fire, than ya do water.”

Vala leaned in close, “The hottest flames burn blue.”

Cavillo looked surprised, “Are you flirtin’ with me?”

“I've already kissed you. I think perhaps I skipped a few steps.”

Cavillo quickly looked around. Everyone was busy chatting with each other. “Aenia, would it be okay if I snuck you away fer a bit?”

“Oh really, and do what?”

“Kiss? Perhaps with some tongue this time?”

“Such a romantic.”

“You didn't strike me for subtly.”

Vala stretched out a hand, which Cavillo grabbed and quickly led her to a door that wasn't under watch but rather was locked. “Shit,” he cursed, “She never leaves this door locked.”

“Did this often?”

He blushed, “Let's not think of that.”

Vala reached forward and brushed her fingertips against the lock and a click was heard from within. They both hurried inside and she followed Cavillo down the hall to a small storage room. Vala didn't realize that they were both giggling with anticipation. She stopped giggling when their eyes met. When had she started acting like a love-struck fool. 

Cavillo ducked his head down, “You really are beautiful.”

Vala ran her hands down his chest and he wrapped one arm around her waist pulling her closer. His other hand caressed her cheek. Their noses touched as they leaned in closer. Vala felt his breath on her lips, and then only warmth. She could taste the wine on his lips. He kissed slowly, allowing Vala to set the pace. She shook with nervousness.

“Is everything alright, Aenia? You're shakin’ like a leaf.”

She didn't say anything as she pulled him back down to her lips and this time locked his with her tongue until he conceded. He pushed back in, vying for dominance in their heated kiss. Vala moaned in his mouth as his tongue pushed hers back into her own. His hands began to wander which caused Vala to squeak in displeasure. Cavillo quickly pulled away and raised his hands in submission, “I'm sorry Aenia, I didn't mean...”

He was flustered and tripped over his words trying to explain himself. Her lipstick was smeared on his lips which were currently downturned. She reached up with trembling hands and began to clean his face, “I've never... done this before.”

A wave of understanding surrounded them, “So, you’re a... a virgin?”

“And are you General Amalius Volliac?”

“Wh-where did you hear that name!?”

“I'm sorry Cavillo,” she whispered.

Her hands glowed purple and he collapsed to the ground, too heavy to move. Vala looked around and quickly ran down the hallway, pulling a folded floor plan Malborn gave her at The Winking Skeever. They were nicely detailed and she hurried to the chest where her gear was stored. Most of the guards were busy with the main hall making it easier for Vala to navigate the hallways. She found the chest and quickly equipped what she could. She'd have to be fast as the spell on Cavillo wouldn't last long.

She felt a bit remorseful about what she did to Cavillo. If he was the Dragonborn, she was sure she'd be able to find ways to lure him, but the prospect that Delphine was right and that innocent civilians were in danger was too tempting. She ducked behind a corner as she heard a group of footsteps march down the hallway.  
“Elenwen wants more information from the prisoners. Especially, the blond haired Nord.”

Vala’s heart skipped a beat. Erik had blond hair! She waited until the guards walked away, she followed the one down a flight of stairs that led to the dungeon. She hurried her quiet pace and quickly silenced the guard. Her dagger gleamed crimson as the Altmer fell to the ground. 

From above she heard the sound of running. Vala quickly grabbed the Elven blade the guard was carrying and hurried further into the dungeon. A few Altmer mages patrolled back and forth. She didn't have enough time. She gripped her blades tighter and charged forward.

“What the-?”

She had the upper hand having surprised her foes. She stabbed her dagger into the neck of one of the mages and pulled the blade free. Arterial spray plastered the ground. Vala quickly shifted her body and ran the sword through the other mage. Both collapsed to the ground and she quickly moved onto the next target. By this time more guards had been alerted and ran towards her. One mage threw a fireball, which missed her by a hair. Others were drawing their bows and firing arrows. One of which planted itself into Vala’s arm causing her to yell in pain.

She made it to the group and one by one the Altmer fell at her feet. She was now covered in minor burns and blood dripped down her arm. One of the guards had a set of keys chained to his belt. She quickly snagged them and started unlocking cells.

“What's going on,” one of the prisoners asked, she didn't recognize him.

“It's time to go free,” Vala simply said.

Most of the prisoners were Nords and she noticed that many of them were quickly equipping themselves with weapons and armor. More guards were streaming down the staircase. “We’ll hold them off, you keep freeing our people,” one of the Nords told her, as they charged towards the stairwell with mighty shouts.  
Vala kept going down the line, freeing prisoners. Right until she got to the last cell. Inside was a man chained to a chair, his long red-stained hair was plastered to his head. The cell was lined with all sorts of instruments of torture. “Please...just fucking kill me,” he begged as Vala opened the gate.

“Not today, your brothers and sisters acre fighting for their freedom, don't you want to join them?”

The man looked up in surprise. His steel eyes were tired but recognizable. “Hello Erik.”

“Vala, by the Nine. A face I thought I'd never see again.”

Vala quickly unbound him, “Erik, where is the Dragonborn?”

He rubbed his chafed wrists, “I haven't heard anything about a Dragonborn.”

Erik shook as he stood up and Vala held onto him for support. They shuffled back into the dungeon. The battle had moved upstairs. There was still still a small group of civilians waiting for orders. “Does anyone know know a back way out,” Vala asked the quaking group.

One of the young men spoke of of a secret passage and they quickly headed towards it. Vala pushed the people through the trap door while she and Erik stayed behind. A few of the warrior rushed back down and hurried through the tunnel as well. “May the souls who were struck down today find their way to Sovngarde,” Vala murmured prayerfully.

Erik chucked, and winced in pain, “You've become quite the Nord, haven't you Vala?”  
From beyond the shadows a figure stepped around the corner. The Imperial man held held a crossbow pointed straight at her. She recognized Cavillo when he stepped into the candle light. “What did he just call you?”

Vala’s gaze hardened, “You haven't answered my question yet. That's not how the game works.”

“Vala, what the hell are you talking about,” Erik asked, sliding back into the shadows.

Cavillo ignored the Nord, “I believe I asked you a question first.”

Vala took a step back with Erik, “And my answer is yes. I am. Now it's only fair you answer.”

His brows furrowed, and Vala could see the pain and anger in his eyes. “That's all the answer I need,” Vala took another step back.

“I am indeed General Amalius Volliac.”

“And I am Vala Catraso, Mercenary to Whiterun.”

“And my betrothed...” Cavillo frowned, lowering his crossbow.

Vala nodded and Erik stepped forward, “This is him? The man your father sold you to?”

“Just go Erik, we can talk more about this when we are safe,” Vala pushed him back towards the tunnel. “Go now, I'll be safe.”

She heard Erik take leave down the tunnel and turned back towards Cavillo. The sounds of more guards clanked down the stairs of the dungeon. “Let me go Cavillo,” he raised his gaze to meet hers, “I wish I had more time to explain.” She pulled a small bag out from inside her dress. She had kept his signet ring hidden where her breasts were. The package felt heavy in her hands as she set it down in front of her.

“Meet me at Breezehome. Alone."


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains mentions/implications of past sexual assault. Nothing descriptive.

Vala paced around the cold, dark house. Each footstep seemed to echo between the small walls. She knew this was dangerous, at any moment he could send guards to this direct location, but it had been weeks and she hadn't seen him since that night at the Embassy. Erik had insisted on going with her, but she told him it would be best to maintain a low profile. They compromised and now Erik sat hidden in the shadows down the street. Vala began walking towards the door when the knob began to shake. She took cover behind the staircase among some crates and barrels that emitted a foul stench. 

The person trudged in and began fiddling with a cabinet next to the door. A warm light filled the room as a fire started. Vala peeked around the corner and watched the man sit down in one of the chairs faced towards the hearth and the door. He was leaned forward and his crossbow was propped against the leg of his chair.  
“I know you're here,” a familiar drawl filled the air.

Vala stepped out from her hiding place and Amalius lifted his head. She gulped as he turned to face her. His eyes that were once bright and mischievous now lay dark and tired above heavy bags. His once nicely combed hair and beard were wild and growing in. The stubble on his face almost looked like specks of dirt in the lowlight. “Cavillo,” Vala addressed, hoping that her prepared speech would soon come back to her mind.

“Aenia,” he returned, sadness betraying the bitterness when he said her name. He motioned to the empty chair next to him, “Why don't ya’ take a seat?”

“I'd rather stand,” Vala quickly replied, “...but thank you.”

He nodded, “Very well. Now, please tell me why?”

“Why I don't want to sit?”

Amalius chuckled and shook his head, “Why anything? Why use me? Why join the Stormcloaks? Why keep your distance when you would practically run to kiss me? Why didn't you tell anyone you were alive?” He looked up at Vala, “Why wouldn't you marry me?”

Vala pursed her lips, “I never used you, and I never ran to kiss you.”

He rolled his eyes, “You’re a bad liar, Aenia.”

She threw up her hands and took a deep breath, “Let's just use our real names and start over.”

“Yes let’s. How did ya find out mine?”

“I met someone who told me. My source will stay hidden,” Vala folded her arms on front of her. The aggressive nature of the questions made her hesitant on revealing Bari.

“And the ring?”

“Found among some possessions when retrieving your cart and items.”

He nodded and sat back in the chair, eyes closed. “Also, I think it's best for you to know that I didn't know you were my betrothed,” Vala continued, “There were many pieces to that puzzle and I took a shot in the dark. And...if I'm being completely honest, I wish it hadn't been true.”

“As do I,” Amalius murmured.

“I'm still not going to marry you,” she stated firmly.

“I know,” he replied, chuckling slightly, “I know you won't. I'm an Imperial General and you're a... whatever the hell you are. Stormcloak?”

Vala shook her head, “No. I'm neither.”

“And your sudden disappearance?”

“My own choice.”

He let out a hearty, mocking laugh and made eye contact with her again, “You gave up a life of luxury for this? I could -no, would- I would have taken care o’ ya, and you what? Sided with bandits known to raid my people and lived like a peasant out here just to avoid me!?”

“I didn't know who you were, Amalius! How are you not understanding this,” anger began bubbling deep inside her, “I was frightened! I never wanted to be sent away to a man I didn't even know! I didn't want to worship the Goddess Dibella, and I especially hated doing everything my father told me to do! I am so glad we came across those bandits because they helped me grow a pair and stand up for myself. I have done just fine on my own before you, and I'll do just fine on my own after you. And what about you!? Using your bloodline to aid those who actively seeking to oppress and destroy everything in their path!”

Amalius snapped his head towards her and quickly stood up, he clenched his fists, “Oh you want to talk about bloodline now? How about this? As the daughter of a noble family it is your duty to marry for the benefit of our people, not run off with some filthy bandits doin’ Gods know what in the forest? Why are you even here when you have that Nord to run to bed to?”

Vala was offended at his implications, “I'm not some desperate sow looking for the next thing to bang. I don't need a man to take care of myself, Amalius, I'm not some... breeding tool. I'm a person, with dreams and feelings.”

“My whole life,” Amalius muttered, “I had dreamed about the perfect woman giving me the perfect family. Against my father's wishes, I waited. Then when I heard about you, Vala, I was excited. I called for you right away, and then you were gone...”

“-I'm gonna stop you right there Amalius. You don't get to decide what's painful and what's perfect. I'm the one who was given to you like an object. You didn't want a woman, you wanted a toy. This conversation is over.”

“You did though,” he said, stopping Vala from going to open the door, “you did run to kiss me. Did you even love me?”

“Aenia may have loved you,” Vala replied, feeling Amalius’ presence directly behind her, “But I don't.”

He reached out and lightly clung to her wrist, “And what if I still do?”

“Then I suggest you take the bruised ego and realize that we can never be more than enemies.”

He let go of her and walked back to the kitchen of the small home. She heard the tell-tale sound of fizz popping and looked back to see him downing a bottle of mead. She felt like drinking one of those too. “You can stay for a glass, if you want,” Amalius told her, “one last night as our fake selves.”

Vala pushed the door closed and walked back to the table and sat across from him. He handed her her own unopened bottle, and they drank silently. “You were beautiful in that dress, Aenia. I don't think I got a chance to tell you that,” he said quietly.

“Thanks,” she murmured.

She cleared her throat, “I'd don't wear dresses often, my job doesn't really allow it. Those sisters had the time of their lives trying to figure something out.”

“Gods they can be so demanding,” Amalius chuckled, “they never seem to quit their bickering.”

Vala chuckled, “Then if you try to stop them from arguing, you become their new target.”

The two of them laughed more before Vala suddenly stopped and made eye contact with Amalius. The way he was looking at her and that certainly she was looking at him felt strange. They should have hated each other, and they both knew she should have left. “You said this would be one final night. As our fake selves?”

“I believe I did,” Amalius whispered.

His lips felt rough against her own. They had both leaned across the table tipping the bottles over and spilling their contents. He reached his hand behind her unarmoured head and ran his fingers through her hair. He pulled her closer as he moaned. She felt his tongue against her lips and she opened to allow him entrance. She kissed back with equal vigor. Their tongues moved back and forth between their mouths. They pulled away from each other, a thin string of saliva connected their lips. Both of them breathed heavily and stared into the other’s eyes. 

Vala could feel her entire body tingling from something that wasn't due to the alcohol. She had felt this way before sometimes when kissing Neph, but this was much stronger. The way the flesh in between her legs was tingling was proof enough for her. Her eyes wandered downwards and she noticed that she wasn't the only one who was aroused. He quickly sat back down hiding in embarrassment.   
“Shit,” he cursed to himself.

“Cavillo, I-”

He quickly waved, “Please just- just go.”

“Answer one last question for me,” she hastily said.

He looked up into her eyes. His cheeks still a deep red. “Tell me, would you have been happy with a Priestess? Or do you prefer what you have come to know?”

His face wrinkled in confusion, “I-I don't know anymore. I just wish I could have been better for you.”

“You could be,” she said stepping to his side of the table, “you could be a good person.”

“Then there's somethin’ you should know, about that bandit. He’s-”

The door suddenly swung open, “Vala, we gotta go. Imperial soldiers are headed to this location. They're right outside the gate.”

Vala turned to Erik, “What? Are you sure?”

Erik glared at Amalius, “No doubt he told them to come here.”

Vala quickly ran out the door glancing back at Amalius who was quickly adjusting himself so he looked looked at least halfway decent. Their eyes met one final time before she slipped away into the night.

Erik pulled her in between two buildings and they crouched down hoping they hadn't been seen. They were still within earshot of the house when three cloaked Imperial Guardsmen approached the front door. Their hoods covered enough of their face that Vala couldn't identify who they were. One of them knocked at the door and demanded entry. She watched as General Amalius opened the door to let the man inside.

The two sat outside in silence waiting for something to happen. Nothing ever did. Eventually the man left and with him the two guards left Whiterun. “That was close,” Erik whispered, “We should take our leave.”

Vala nodded, “Let's wait a few minutes. Just to be sure those imperial soldiers are gone.”

They sat in the dark a few more minutes before deciding it was safe to leave. “So what did you guys talk about,” Erik asked once they had made it safely outside of the city.

“I told him who I was and who I am. He's... confusing to say the least,” she remarked.

“Confusing? How?”

“Well he went on this rant about my duty as a noble, Imperial woman. Very aggressive, alpha male type, but then he suddenly gets all passive and doesn't act on his word.”

“Sounds to me like he's conflicted. Very unusual indeed.”

“What do you mean?”

Erik cleared his throat, “Well, he expected one thing but found he was attracted to another thing. I don't know what's going on in his head, but that's what I imagine it's like.”

“Told to behave one way all his life but then finds the opportunity to enjoy a different type of behavior? I know exactly what that's like,” Vala muttered.

“Sorry Vala, you know I didn't mean anything bad.”

She chuckled, “I know Erik. I'm not some kid anymore. You don't have to coddle me.”

“Did you guys talk about anything else?”

Vala thought for a minute. Should she tell him about their strange relationship? “Well, he was about to tell me something about you,” she looked at him from the corner of her eyes.

He suddenly became nervous and she stopped walking suddenly feeling unprepared without her claymore. Which was unfortunately still in Solitude. “Oh please. You wouldn't have believed him anyways,” he tried to brush it off, “Right?”

“You were in that torture room a long time Erik. I don't exactly know what to believe.”

“Then let me tell you the truth. From the beginning. Once we're safe somewhere else. The wilds at night aren't exactly safe.”

Vala nodded, “Where would you suggest?”

“Stormcloak territory. We aren't exactly on the list of the Imperial’s favorite people.”

“We can rest at Riverwood for the night and leave early tomorrow,” she suggested.

 

Delphine had set aside a room with two beds for the pair. Vala hadn't found it uncomfortable in the least having done the same already with people who hired her. What she did find uncomfortable was the deal Erik had made about it. “I don't care anymore,” she groaned, rolling her eyes.

She was currently getting changed into some clean clothes and Erik was doing his best to not bump or look at her in the small room. “I can get changed under the blankets if this really bothers you,” she offered, but he never answered.

He was trying hard to focus on changing his own clothes. When they were both in their proper attire they sat on their respective beds. “So,” Erik said, “I guess I have some explaining to do.”

“Ready when you are,” Vala encouraged.

“I want you to remember that I'm a completely different person now than I was then,” he shuffled his hands, “I was an Imperial soldier.”

Vala was taken aback, “What?”

He nodded slowly, “I worked as a spy for the Thalmor. I wasn't strong then and certain... people... had their way with me. When I first met Ulfric Stormcloak, he brought a sense of freedom to me. He told me about someone with the power of The Voice, about how their power could push the Thalmor back to their lands and bring peace between Skyrim and Cyrodiil. I left soon after and joined the Stormcloaks, but to many I was known as an Imperial spy so I created the band of bandits. Our hits gave Ulfric and all the Stormcloaks a chance to succeed. I worked in the shadows hoping one day to meet this Dovahkiin. When we were captured at Helgen it happened. A dragon with wings and scales as black as night attacked. Most of my friends were killed and I was one of the few who was captured in the aftermath.”

Vala frowned, “Erik, I'm so sorry.” She suddenly remembered the events that happened at Falkreath. “Erik that Jarl of Falkreath...”

Erik twitched at the name and lowered his head in shame. “Gods Erik,” Vala gasped and whispered, “I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I-”

“It's okay Vala,” he whispered, “you didn't know. I only told a few people. No one believed me tell first time it happened. Or any time after that. Ulfric did though. And he helped me get out and leave that behind,” he chuckled, “I guess that's why I was drawn to you. I saw someone in a similar situation and I wanted to be your Ulfric.”

He looked at Vala, his steel eyes were soft and tears threatened to pour over. Vala reached out to take his hand and allowed him to accept the offer. He squeezed gently, “My experiences there have ruined any level of intimacy I will ever have with another person. It's what stopped me from approaching you after-”

“After I suddenly hugged you. I am so sorry Erik.” 

“I've been getting better, but it seems for a person like me my fate consists of beatings and tortures.”

They sat in silence. Vala wanted to give him space, but she had other questions.   
“When you are ready,” Vala murmured gently, “I have more questions... About the Dovahkiin.”

Erik nodded, but he remained silent. Eventually he took a deep breath, “I do have one more thing to admit.”

Vala nodded, “Of course. What is it?”

“I saw you at Fort Greymoor, on the day when when it was raining. You were getting...changed.”

Vala watched him blush and become uncomfortable. He continued, “My previous experiences have always made me feel dirty about any thought or emotion. I've been able to hide and deal with it over time but when certain things happen it becomes...difficult.”

She nodded, “Thank you for telling me Erik. What can I do to help you feel more comfortable?”

“Patience, and a divider we can get changed behind. Something like that, you know?”

“Okay, I will do that.”

“Thank you Vala,” Erik whispered, giving her hand one final squeeze before letting go. “Now,” he said with a more serious tone, “Let's talk about the Dovahkiin.”

Vala sat up, “My sources say the Thalmor have the Dovahkiin in their possession.”

“During my stay there the Thalmor believed that Ulfric has the Dovahkiin due to the dragon attack on Helgen while we were stuck there.”

“So no one knows where the Dovahkiin is?”

Erik sighed, “This is true. Each side believes the other has the Dovahkiin on their side. Otherwise that's all I know.”

Vala nodded, deciding it was time to reveal herself, “I might know who the Dovahkiin is.”

Erik looked confused, “What do you mean?”

“I have...dreams,” she started slowly, “prophetic dreams that guide me. I had one a few weeks ago that led me to the conclusion that Cav- sorry, General Amalius Volliac is the Dovahkiin we seek.”

“That's impossible, he's an Imperial,” Erik scoffed.

“But so was Martin, the one who defeated Mehrunes Dagon. Imperial people have just as much opportunity of being Dragonborn than any Nord,” Vala countered.

“But if what you say is true, then why hasn't he come out to aid his people?”

Vala remembered what Delphine had told her, “It's because of the threat of the Thalmor. They've been hunting down the Blades, why not the Dragonborn as well?”  
“Then that man may be in more danger than originally thought,” Erik said, “and more dangerous as well.”

“Looks like I'll be paying another visit to Whiterun.”

“Vala that's too dangerous,” Erik stated, concern edging his voice, “What if those soldiers come back or he sells you out? What then?”

“I don't know,” she admitted.

Erik sighed as he laid down in bed, “Let's discuss this more after some sleep. And when we are on our way to Stormcloak territory.”

Vala couldn't argue with that, she could barely keep her eyes open she was so tired.

_She was in that place again, but instead of herself Shezarr was there. She quickly knelt on one knee to show her utmost respect. The watchful guardian chuckled before instructing her to rise. “What would you have of me Shezarr,” she asked._

_“I have never misguided you, have I Vala?”_

_She trembled as the deity narrowed it's eyes towards her. “No my Lord,” she stumbled, “you have given me the opportunity to better myself and to choose to follow your will.”_

_“Then why let the spider ensnare your soul?”_

_“My Lord?”_

_“Normally, my children would easily identify the creeping tendrils of a Prince. Much like how you did long ago. You have strayed from your studies and your worship and my power has left you.”_

_Vala stood and contemplated what he was saying. He was right. After Helgen she had stopped worshipping Shezarr and her dreams had almost come to a near cease._

_“I want to help you Vala,” Shezarr’s voice changed almost he removed his helmet. His head looked like it didn't belong on the brute of the deity before her. “Ya just gotta ask.”_

Vala woke up before Erik did. A rooster crowed somewhere in the sleepy town. She knew she wasn't going to go back to sleep and opted for getting dressed. She remembered what Erik had told her and she gathered her clothes and left the room. Delphine was standing in the middle of the Inn, “Well you're up early.” 

Vala chuckled, “Can I get changed in your room?”

“Just be quick about it.”

She walked back to her and Erik's room and tapped lightly on the door. “Yeah, hold on. Almost ready,” Erik said from within.

“Sounds good,” Vala called back, “I'll meet you outside.”

Vala left the Inn and the light from the sunrise both blinded and warmed her at the same time. There was a chill in the air that tickled her nose. A pine scent wafted by mixed in with someone's fresh baking. Erik soon stepped out and began to admire the view with her.

“I fell in love with this place the moment we arrived all those months ago,” she admitted.

“It's a beautiful land,” Erik agreed.

They stood there quietly, admiring the morning sun. Vala turned to face him. He looked more rugged than when she first met him, he had also grown out his hair and beard. His dirty blond hair was currently pulled back into a tight knot, while his beard was curly and seemed to ravage his face. He had some new scars from the months within the Embassy. “I notice you don’t smoke anymore,” Vala commented, walking down the stairs to the path out of Riverwood.

“Seemed to have broken that habit, the Thalmor were hellish in more ways than one,” Erik chuckled.

“So, where to?”

“We should stick to the outskirts of large cities. Just to be safe. We should also stop at Ivarstead before making our way to Windhelm.”

“Any particular reason why we should stop there?”

Erik sighed, “It was our meetup place just in case we had to disperse. Any survivors would be there.”

“Oh,” Vala replied, “do you remember who survived?”

Erik shook his head, “I think Frigga and Asmund made it out, but I don't know for sure.”

The two walked in silence not knowing what to say to Erik. She had missed everyone after the dragon attack. Anyone who stayed behind left after news of Helgen quickly dispersed to find 'work’. That is if anyone considered banditry a job. Vala felt hope in seeing Frigga or Asmund again or even any of the others.   
Their travels were quite eventful. First a small wolf pack, then some skeevers, a necromancer, bandits claiming a toll and just when they thought it couldn't get any worse, a shattering cry filled the air. Vala quickly looked to the skies. Clouds began to form and a light mist of rain fell around them. She looked to Erik who seemed to be in a panic frenzy. “You didn't happen to bring arrows did you,” he asked.

“No, why?”

“Because we're gonna need them.”

Another screech and Vala heard what sounded like wings flapping. A dark figure burst through the cloud cover and Vala's eyes widened. The beast was huge. Thick ivory scales and dark horns wrapped around the body of the beast. It had wings for arms that seemed to span the sky and thick, strong legs and a long tail that flicked through the air. “Dragon,” Erik shouted ducking behind a large boulder.

Vala ducked behind another one just as the dragon swooped downwards. She felt heated breath go down the back of her neck. She took her short sword and thrust upwards barely leaving a slice on the underbelly of the dragon. It roared and began to circle around back at the pair.

“Shit, Vala we need to get out of here!”

“Back to that bandit tower we can try to wait it out.”

They ran as fast as they could to the dilapidated towers that once housed a group of bandits, but now instead housed their still warm corpses. The dragon flew ahead and cut them off just before reaching the tower. Its winged limb grasped for purchase against the ruin, pulling it over. The stone falling into the river below. The beast bellowed again followed by a pained screech. It quickly turned on its legs to the intruder that attacked it from behind. Vala and Erik both saw a masked figure run around the dragon, kitting it to spin in a circle. The dragon snapped its jaw at the figure who swiftly and deftly dodged each bite. Vala watch as the person flipped over the dragon's head and threw a dagger at the dragon which planted itself inside the monster's socket. The figure landed on his left leg, and quickly faltered and began leaning on their right leg. Something the figure tried to hide, but Vala caught on.

Blood pooled and poured out of the dragon's eye and dripped down its face. Vala took note of the opportunity and rushed the dragon thrusting her blade deep into the creature's neck. Erik followed after, his own sword planted itself within the tendons of the dragon's wing socket. The beast thrashed pushing the two of them away. The mysterious figure followed up throwing another knife, this time the dagger pinged off of a horn. The dragon faced towards the stranger and spoke. 

“Yol toor shul!”

Fire burst from the maw of the beast and something overcame Vala. She rushed the stranger and grappled them, pulling them out from the line of fire. The figure was wearing a dark red and brown cloak with matching light armor and a mask that only showed the person's eyes. Vala looked deep into them. They had a hazel tint to them. Slit and slanted. The type of eyes someone sneaky would have. Someone like...

“Watch it,” Erik shouted.

The dragon crawled forward towards the pair. The cloaked figure grabbed a few round orbs from a pocket at his side and threw them towards the dragon. The small beads shattered and a plume of smoke covered the dragon’s face. The beast lashed wildly trying to find its targets. It reared up and flapped its wings blowing the smoke away, only to find an empty battlefield.

Vala, Erik and the unknown person had fled down the bank into an overhang. They crouched inside of it and listened as the dragon above cried out, moving somewhere. Vala could feel the blood pounding in her ears. They were all breathing heavily. No one dared move. The ground shook and some rubble fell from the ceiling around them.

“Shit,” Erik muttered.

The dragon crawled down from above. Its one eye searching for its prey. Their one gratitude being the dragon was faced away from them. It hadn’t seen them yet. Vala went to sneak forward, her hands glowed purple ready to cast her burdening spell. Erik saw her and held her back shaking his head. She slunk back, the purple fading away from her hands. The dragon turned its head and Vala caught sight of Erik’s sword still lodged in the wing socket.

In idea crossed Vala’s mind as she leaned forward again. Erik tried to pull her back but she bolted out too quickly. She rushed the dragon towards the sword. The beast turned its head and roared. Its long neck reached around, the maw of the beast opening towards her.

“Yol...”

“Not again monster,” Vala growled, touching the beast's face.

Its mighty maw snapped shut. It took all her magika to keep the dragon’s mouth shut. She jumped onto the beast’s head and ran down the length of its neck towards its limp wing. The dragon’s mouth freed itself just as Vala palmed the hilt of the sword. She gripped onto it and pulled harshly, freeing it from its fleshy tomb. The beast roared loud enough that Vala thought her eardrums would burst. The dragon tried to snap at her again but someone began to distract it. 

“Down here you ugly thing!”

Vala turned and saw Erik standing in front of the dragon. The beasts head snapped forward and roared at the Nord. Erik stood his ground glaring down the dragon. Vala was about to thrust the sword into the spine of the creature when a bout of fatigue overwhelmed her. She couldn’t hold the sword above her head. Served her right for using all her magika on one spell.

The dragon shook her off its back. She hit the dirt the sword slid away from her. A flash of black and the sword was lifted by the mysterious figure. They jumped onto the back of the dragon and slammed the sword through the dragon’s spine, severing it completely.

The beasts body fell limp, its maw snapping wildly in confusion as its body refused to respond to its needs. Vala sat up and watched the dragon take its final breaths as the blood poured from its back and eye. Vala felt something cold on her face and she looked up at the cloudy sky. The rain water mixed with the blood, thinning it and washing it away.

The dark red blood started to do something Vala had never seen before in her life. It began to turn golden in color and glow. Even the air around the dragon riveted into gold ribbons. It began to surround and cover the unknown figure in scaled golden armor that seemed to seep into the skin of the person. Erik’s eyes widened, “Dragonborn?”

The figure looked down at their hands. They seemed unsure of what was happening to themselves. They took a hesitant step backwards as the flesh of the dragon disappeared into the golden ribbons connected to the person. Erik took a step forward, “You need to come with me. The Stormcloaks could use someone with your abilities.”

The figure shook their head and stepped back again. Vala watched as they suddenly gripped their thigh and fell to the ground. Erik hesitantly took a step forward and the unknown person, who Vala was now sure was Amalius, scooted backwards. She watched as Erik rushed down next to Amalius and held the man down on the ground just enough to persuade the man to stop moving. “Hold still, you don’t want to lose any more blood.”

Vala felt some strength return to her and she stood up on wobbly feet. She made her way over to the two men before sitting back down and observed Erik’s struggle trying to retain and yet help the man.

“Just let him go Erik. You can’t heal him and keep him from running away,” Vala looked over the two, blood was covering their hands as they struggled against each other, “Let us help you, for helping us, and then we shall let you go.”

“Vala,” Erik hissed, “We need to take him with us.”

The rain began to fall harder around them. It was chilled as it was early in the year. The two Imperials shivered. “We need to get out of this rain,” Vala looked around.  
The outcrop they hid under from the dragon was very small with not enough room to lay down. Then something caught her eye. A larger cave-like structure on the opposite side of the cliff. “Let’s move over there,” she pointed standing back up.

“Fine,” Erik grumbled helping Amalius up.

The three limped over to the cave. The inside was mostly dry and sheltered from the wind and water. To their surprise and makeshift shrine had been erected in the center. A rusted brazier with dying coals sat in front of a forgotten shrine to Talos. Dead plants were strewn about the base of the shrine, and were overtaken by natural moss growth.

They set Amalius down next to the shrine and Erik immediately began to tend to his reopened wound. The man removed his mask and Vala saw that the man who had saved them was indeed Amalius. He looked away from the two to avoid eye contact and winced in pain as Erik harshly bandaged the wound.

“You want to tell me what’s going on,” Erik growled through gritted teeth.

“Not particularly,” Amailus bit back.

Erik eyed Vala, “How about you then?”

She shook her head, “I’m just as confused as you are.”

Erik grumbled again as he finished tightly tying the bandage around Amalius’ leg. “Thanks,” he muttered.

Vala had been looking at the shrine and the brazier for a while. The coals were still warm and the plants around the statue were not dry enough to light. She had hoped they were so they could have a fire to keep warm and rest next to after the uneventful day they had had. 

“...foolish. Both of you,” Erik retorted at something Vala didn't catch.

“And yur’welcome for it,” Amalius seethed, “Otherwise ya’d be dinner by now.”

“Why did you help us,” Vala questioned gently, “you’re an Imperial general. Aren’t you supposed to try and kill us?”

Erik scoffed, “He’s not going to tell you anything.”

Amalius sighed, “Just let me go. Yur’ supposed to be my enemy or somethin’.”

“Precisely,” Vala replied, “So why help us?”

No reply.

“Did it have to do with those men from last night?”

He glared down Vala.

Erik shrugged, “Doesn’t matter to me. We’re taking him to Ulfric.”

Amalius spat, “Ulfric can go fuck himself. You too Erik. Traitors to your High King.”

“Ulfric _is_ my High King.”

“Your belief in Ulfric is delusional. He can’t push the Thalmor back, no one can. We’ve tried that already.”

“But we didn't have the power of the Dovahkiin,” Erik replied, “with your power we can drive out the Thalmor from our collective lands.”

Amalius’ brow furrowed, “Wait... that’s not what Ulfric stands for. It’s all about removing Cyrodiilic grip on Skyrim.”

“But tell me, who is trying to tear everyone apart? Bring discord to our countries? It is the Thalmor’s idea of mer over man. Their conquest of superiority and controlling our religious beliefs. We must use you to convince the Thalmor to leave our lands. Our countries will stand together against that menace.”

“Then why side with Ulfric,” Amailus’ face scrunched in confusion.

It was Erik’s trauma that pushed him away from the Imperial Armies. He looked uncomfortable trying to come up with an answer so Vala spoke up, “It’s because the Thalmor will try to kill you. Ulfric would at least hear you out.”

Amalius tried to hide the fear that crossed his face, “What do ya’ mean?”

“You don’t know? The Thalmor hunted down and executed almost all Blade’s members. They view the Dragonborn as something that shouldn’t exist. You’re in danger as long as you are on their side.”

“I am?”

Erik nodded, “She’s right. You have the power to stand between the Thalmor and their goals. They wouldn’t hesitate to execute you too.”

Amalius suddenly gripped his leg, groaning in pain. “We should discuss this further,” Vala approached the two, sitting down next to Amalius, “But for now, you should rest.”

Amalius drifted to sleep as Vala tended his wound. Rewrapping it like how she did when he first got it. Erik sat back against the cave wall, “Thank you Vala.”

She nodded silently, “Of course Erik. The rain seems to be clearing up. We can head out to Ivarstead soon.”

“We can’t just leave him here.”

“I know,” Vala nodded, “When I have enough strength I have a spell that will make him lighter to carry. We will just need to make sure his face is covered.”

Erik nodded, “Sounds like a plan.”

 

Erik had gone outside to retrieve their weapons from the dragon bones when Amalius woke up. Vala was busy moving items from Erik’s pack to her own so it would be easier for him to carry the Imperial man. Her attention changed over to the prone figure when he started muttering curses. “I’m still here you know,” she stated nonchalantly.

He was silent for a few minutes before she heard him sob. He tried to stifle it using his hands but his body shaking gave it away. Vala approached cautiously and he began speaking. “I never knew what I was.”

Vala sat down beside him and listened. 

“I never knew until five months ago at that damned watchtower. I was in Whiterun on business when the Jarl received word of a dragon attackin’ the western watchtower. I offered my assistance. I was the last one alive at the end of the day. The dragon’s body lay still at my feet and then that... that _thing_ happened.”

Vala placed a hand on his shoulder and rubbed comfortingly.

“I heard the Greybeards call my name, but no one else seemed to hear them. I thought I had gone crazy, and every time I saw that cursed tower in ruins... I was reminded of what and who I really am. I’m a general damnit! That’s how it should ‘ave been.”

“Sometimes life leads us in unexpected paths,” Vala offered.

“But mine was written from the beginnin’. What choice do I have in that?”

Vala shrugged, “You could just not go to the Greybeards.”

“And defy prophecy,” he scoffed, “I wish.”

“Then why argue and fight against it if there is no choice.”

“Are you tryin’ ta make me feel better,” he bit sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

“We were chosen to have our control taken away, so that others may continue to have theirs.”

“...we?”

Vala looked up just in time to see Erik walk back in, “I found our weapons. You ready to go?”

Vala nodded. She carried the bags and Erik had Amalius tied around his back. “This isn’t very dignified,” Amalius grumbled, causing Vala to smile slightly.  
She placed a hand on Amalius’ arm and soon the spell was cast making Amalius lighter in weight. They had a longer journey to Ivarstead now, and would need all the help they could get.


End file.
